What Once Was
by Lexi Lupin
Summary: Sequel to Changes in Heart- following a near-fatal encounter with Voldemort, Snape is believed dead by all but the Order. He now must work with Hermione and Harry to devise a plan to kill Voldemort once and for all. HG/SS Not HBP or DH compliant-Complete!
1. Prologue

**-NEW AUTHOR NOTE! ADDED 9/11/09 (or between chapters 6 & 7)- (it'll make more sense if you've read the prequel, btw)**

**Semi-important explanatory A/N: So… Here I am, several chapters into this story, and, as I was harshly reminded by a review recently, I had yet to actually define whether or not this would be a HG/SS story. I know I made it abundantly clear on several occasions that Changes in Heart would NOT be romantic, and it wasn't (alternate ending excluded). My several reasons for this were laid out in a couple of chapters of that story. **

**Despite the lack of romance in Changes in Heart, I did find it to be rather popular and was encouraged- perhaps I had found a devoted group of readers who cared more for story than smut (not that there's anything wrong with the occasional smut perusal- heaven knows I'm quite guilty myself). But the point of that story was for me to lay out Hermione's year 6 (I published it prior to DH and wasn't crazy with the way Snape ended up in HBP, haha) as I would have enjoyed it. Obviously not realistically in the sense that it followed Hermione's tale, not Harry's, &c, &c, but I wanted it as realistic as possible for the characters JK Rowling wrote using my plot kernel. This I did, and, I hope, did reasonably well. **

**This story has not gotten off the ground in readership as I might have liked- I was hoping for more of a spillover from Changes in Heart, and that has not happened to a great extent (though a few of you have been faithful). I suspect that, while Changes in Heart was a 3+ year ordeal which, once started, several people needed to finish, despite the publication of Deathly Hallows before I finished my story. Now though, it seems like readership of stories centered around Hermione and Snape is based upon the romantic notion- one that is impossible for those keeping to JKs ending. This, I suspect, is why I can not garner much interest in this (by all means, tell me if I'm wrong and it's because my story is just bad- I daresay I may have lost my touch since Changes in Heart, despite my increase in years since then).**

**Writing this story though, I can't keep myself away from it. I want so dearly to make it a romance- have from the very beginning of its prequel, in fact, but swore to hold true. And the more I think about it, the more I can discount the reasons for which it wasn't a romance to begin with- the principal of which was Snape's position as her professor. I know it sounds like a cop-out, but he's not, and that opens up my conscience to write it in. **

**I know some (a small minority, I presume) will be disappointed in MY change in heart- I did have one rather eager reviewer beg me to not make it romantic, that he is too old for her- and I would agree, but something has been nagging at me lately. In one of my classes this semester, I just had to read Austen's ****Emma****. This is going to sound ridiculous, but I like to justify myself in long-winded explanations that won't be read, so off I go. **

**When I first read ****Pride and Prejudice****- nay, when I first saw the (new) movie- I saw Darcy as Snape. Cruel- unpleasant- belief in his own superiority- and severely misunderstood on all those counts. I began to draw this romantic notion to his character, to the entire Harry Potter world as a more old England-type society- largely based on blood ties. And today, when I finished ****Emma****, I completed that train of thought. Mr. Knightley is sixteen years older than Emma (Snape is what? Eighteen, nineteen years older than Hermione?). He has watched her grow and, indeed, helped raised her, helped to mold her into the person which he dared himself to love, despite his age. Is this not, then, the completion of my justification to myself? I daresay it is and that I shall relent. **

**In some ways, I feel as though I am succumbing to popular pressure- but I assure you, that pressure has been part of my own feelings since the first remote indication of his feelings towards her in Changes in Heart- his refusal to succumb to the demands to use a pensieve perhaps? **

**So long story short? You can now consider this a HG/SS. Which isn't to say they'll immediately jump into bed and start having 'lots of sex and babies' (Love Actually, anyone?)… but you can call it an eventual romance. My only regret? I do fear that I shall lose my eligibility for the Snape-Hermione friendship community that this story is a part of. Ah well.**

**Lastly- do not judge an author too harshly on such matters. I have never possessed the ability to plan out a long story too far in advance- I am much the slave to my own passing whims and fancies while writing, that I often end up throwing little innuendoes and whatnot in that I had never intended- I have written myself into a corner from which I have no other escape. But I look forward to that escape. :-) **

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it belongs to JK Rowling. Plots are mine, of course.

A/N: Well, I think I've finally decided that it's time for a sequel. I'm sure it will be slow going at first. Its exam time soon, papers abound. But summer will start and, while about half of it will be spent with limited computer access, it will give me plenty of writing time. In any case, this will be posted as both an epilogue to my story **Changes in Heart** and the Prologue of my new story **What Once Was**. Do enjoy. And please, if you're stumbling upon this as a new story, check out the prequel (a lot of stuff here probably won't make much sense without the background)- if you're reading this as the end of Changes in Heart, add the new story to your alerts!

A/N 2: A difficult decision to make, but I shall have to continue this story from the original ending of Changes in Heart, not the alternate. Just be warned, but don't lose faith. ;-)

**Epilogue/Prologue of the soon-to-be-begun sequel**

Severus Snape was dead.

It was a purposefully vague and abbreviated speech which Dumbledore gave to the Hogwarts staff and students. _Severus Snape was a great potions master, and he'd taught scores of students in the precise and exact art that is potion-brewing for some fifteen years. He will be missed. _It was a very detached- even cold- sounding speech and most attributed it to shock over the sudden demise of his long-time colleague.

Many of the Slytherins knew better, however.

Professor Snape had been murdered by the Dark Lord for failing him so epically in regards to Hermione Granger, murdered because he would no longer serve a purpose to the Dark Lord, murdered because Potter and Weasley would have turned him in anyway for his abuses. In other words, he had worn out his usefulness, and those who were not useful to the Dark Lord were disposed of; particularly those who knew as much as Severus Snape.

Of course Dumbledore wouldn't say all of this- he must have been hard-pressed as it was to keep Potter and Weasley silent and allow him to deliver a eulogy not tainted by the horrible deeds of the now-dead man. Parents would panic, withdraw their children from Hogwarts, if such a thing became known. With Snape dead and gone, all that was left was to silence Granger, Potter, and Weasley, and the school could run as close to normal as ever. Yes, Dumbledore could be manipulative in his own way.

The school observed a minute of respectful silence, though few could be observed to be physically upset. A couple of the teachers appeared distraught or teary-eyed. Students were shocked more than anything else.

Draco stood in the center of a group of older Slytherin students, those with close ties to the Dark Lord. He'd become even more of a legend or hero since his father pulled him out of school a week earlier to partake- in the most disgusting of senses, in Draco's opinion- in the downfall of Potter and his friends. News had quickly spread among them of his participation, though they dared not be too vocal about it- it was obvious that Draco was walking a thin line with Dumbledore between following the Dark Lord and protecting his own life by obeying him and his father.

Draco looked up, instinctively but subtly searching for Hermione in the crowd of Gryffindors before stopping himself, realizing that she wouldn't be there. Obviously she would not attend the brief service for the one who had so abused her over the past school years, and the rest of the Slytherins assumed it was all just a part of Dumbledore's plan to keep Snape's real role a secret from parents- why risk a scene? Potter and Weasley were likewise missing in order to avoid spilling the truth. He didn't know if any of them had even returned to Hogwarts yet.

It was a very brief speech, and the crowd dispersed, students muttering speculatively to each other about Professor Snape. Draco barely paid attention to the words of his classmates around him. Instead, he made for the staircase to go up, rather than towards the dungeons.

"Draco, where are you going?" Pansy called after him.

"I have to write a letter to my father," Draco said in as meaningful a voice as he could muster. Pansy and Blaise smiled knowingly as him and continued on their way to the Slytherin common room.

Rather than proceed to the owlery, Draco made his way to the Room of Requirement on the seventh floor. Once inside, he grabbed a fistful of floo powder- conveniently waiting on the mantle of the conveniently-placed fireplace- and stepped into the empty hearth. Throwing down the powder and yelling, "Snape's office," Draco disappeared into the flourish of green flames, sucked nauseatingly into the expansive floo network of Hogwarts.

Feeling himself start to slow down, Draco braced himself for the sudden expulsion from the fireplace in Snape's office, and he was not disappointed. He often suspected that Snape charmed it to spit people out unceremoniously, just to give him some amusement. He had never asked, however, if this was indeed the case.

He proceeded through a large oak door beyond Snape's desk, taking in the bareness of the surroundings. It certainly hadn't taken long to clear out the office, and it just wasn't the same place without an assortment of pickled things lining the walls.

In the small sitting room beyond the office, Draco was faced with a choice of doors. There were two bedrooms, he knew; a kitchen; and, of course, the discreet entrance into Snape's private potions lab. Figuring the latter destination to be more likely, Draco pushed open the door gently- and was not disappointed.

"Draco!" He smiled faintly as her mussed brown hair popped out from behind a large box of ingredients. "You're just in time!"

"In time for what?" he asked with an amused air of suspicion.

A low, silky voice came from behind, startling him.

"The celebration of my departure from Hogwarts, of course."

SCENESCENESCENESCENESCENESCENESCENESCENESCENESCENE

"It's weird, Harry."

"I know, Ron, I know, but there's nothing we can do about it. She's made her choices."

"Yeah, but Malfoy and Snape? I mean, it's…"

"Weird?"

"Yes!" Ron was oblivious to Harry's gently mocking tone.

"Look, Ron," Harry said in a placating voice, "I reckon it's like Remus said; we're jealous or something. No," he added at the look on Ron's face, "not at being 'friends' with Snape and Malfoy, but at having a secret project to be working on, being in the thick of things."

The two were sitting in Snape's parlor back at the manor on Woodyshire Lane. They still found it relatively awkward to be given free reign over Snape's personal space, but Hermione's extensive knowledge of the place made them more at ease. Now she wasn't there though, and they sat awkwardly, awaiting the return of Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall, so they could discuss exactly what they were to do for the remainder of the term. There were still nearly two months technically until summer holiday, but many Order members had expressed concern about the vulnerability of the three, especially now that Snape was no longer a source of information about Voldemort's plans. He would be furious and even more desperate after his latest failure and humiliation- defeat by a seventeen-year-old mudblood girl.

Ron's current state of disgruntlement was due to Hermione's absence. She had gone back to Hogwarts at the same time as Professors Dumbledore and Snape to help pack up Snape's potions lab while Dumbledore was telling the rest of the school about the sad news of Snape's demise the previous day. It was decided that this would be the best line of attack for now. Snape could lay low until the surprise of his survival could do the most damage.

He had made a fantastically fast recovery, nearly completely back to normal within just twenty-four hours of receiving the strengthening draught from Hermione. She had protested when he appeared at breakfast that morning, insisting that he remove all of his things from Hogwarts before any students or other professors found their way into his secure things- and there were definitely things there that merited secrecy. They had compromised, however, with Snape agreeing that she could help and oversee the process whilst Snape took care of some of the more volatile potions and ingredients.

So here they were, an hour later, waiting on the 'committee,' as Harry had begun to refer to it, which would decide the course of action to take regarding the three and their return to Hogwarts. Personally, he disagreed with the very notion that they should remain in hiding, but enough worry was present for him to be shushed and a meeting called for.

"So Hermione and Malfoy…?" Ron didn't finish the question. He'd voiced it enough over the past day that Harry knew what he meant. "Really?"

"Yup."

"You think they're like…a thing?"

Harry laughed. "Dating?" he asked incredulously. "No. Definitely not. How could they anyway?"

Ron nodded, but didn't look convinced. He was spared having to think on it any harder by the sudden arrival of three figures: Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Lupin.

"Where's Hermione?" Ron asked Dumbledore.

Dumbledore smiled kindly at him, hint of a twinkle in his eyes. "Fear not, the task of clearing out Severus's potions lab will undoubtedly keep even the two working together quite busy for some time. In any case, she has given us permission to commence without her."

Ron muttered under his breath. Harry couldn't be sure, but it sounded like he said, "It's weird, Harry…"

SCENESCENESCENESCENESCENESCENESCENESCENESCENESCENESCENE

"I really should head back to the common room soon," Draco said ruefully. Hermione pulled him into a tight embrace.

"I know," she murmured. "But this sucks."

He chuckled mirthlessly. "That's an understatement."

"We won't get to work together anymore. Ever. It'll be much too risky to even try a brief time together in the Room of Requirement. There are just too many students who would be more than happy to spy on either one of us. Too much hangs in the balance, now more than ever."

"And you might not even be coming back to Hogwarts," Draco pointed out quietly.

Hermione sighed. "I doubt it. I mean, it's just a victory for Voldemort if we appear so scared as to send Harry Potter into permanent hiding."

"Yeah, well we'll see." They stood quietly for a long moment, looking intently at each other.

"Take care of yourself," Draco finally managed.

"You too," she choked out. "Keep a low profile."

He grinned. "You definitely have to worry more about _that_ than I do."

She leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Goodbye, Draco."

Once he had gone, she returned to the lab to check up on Snape's progress. Grabbing one of the remaining butter beers from their brief 'festivities,' she proceeded to down it faster than usual.

"Careful, Miss Granger," Snape warned amusedly, "even humans can be adversely affected by too much butter beer too quickly." He analyzed her distant expression and ascertained the problem quickly.

"It is a shame that you will not be able to see as much of Draco," he offered knowingly. Hermione spun to look at him.

"What?" she demanded before catching herself, realizing that her depressive state was getting the better of her. "Sorry…I mean, yeah. We've become rather close, working together here and whatnot. So it's hard, realizing that we won't really be able to have a normal relationship for some time again now."

"Well," Snape returned, "if there's one thing I know about sorrow, it's that trying to drown it in butter beer is NOT the solution."

"Really?" Hermione smiled wryly. "What is?"

"Come with me."

SCENESCENESCENESCENE

"Wow that burns," Hermione gasped.

"Firewhiskey is not for the fainthearted," Snape told her sardonically. "Think you're up to facing the jury?"

"After that, I can handle anything."

"Come then- we should return to discuss what is to become of you."

**A/N: So there's my (short) epilogue/prologue. I know, not much happens…but it shall segue nicely into a new adventure I daresay. :-) **

**Like I said, go back and read the prequel, or go add the new story WHAT ONCE WAS if you're reading this as the end of CHANGES IN HEART. **

**Cheers!**


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: not mine. JK Rowlings. Bah. **

**Chapter 1**

"With all due respect, Remus, I don't agree," Hermione interjected quietly. She hadn't spoken up much throughout the discussion, but Harry and Ron just weren't doing a very good job vocalizing why they should be allowed to return to Hogwarts for the duration of the term. Not to mention that they weren't the best of authorities on the matter, after getting themselves caught by sneaking into Hogsmeade despite Hermione's warnings.

"Hermione, I understand that you, especially," he smiled a little, "don't want to feel hindered in your education, but your safety has to be more important! Voldemort is getting stronger every day, and his failures will only serve to drive him harder to capturing Harry. If he decides to mobilize the Slytherin students, it would be all too easy to take any one of you, if not all three."

"And if he does, which would be a remarkably reckless, foolish action given the limited chance of success which is much more limited, he thinks, by Professor Snape's 'death,' Draco can warn us about it well in advance," she coolly reminded him. There were a few moments of silence.

"I'm not sure how comfortable I feel leaving my life in the hands of Draco Malfoy," Ron told her unsurely.

"He's perfectly trustworthy," Hermione snapped, a little more abrupt than she intended to. "If not for him, you probably would have already died at Voldemort's hands." Ron gave a small shudder- at the thought of his life depending on Draco, or at hearing Voldemort's name, Hermione couldn't be sure which.

"Look," she sighed, facing all of them, "professors; there is such a thing as psychological warfare, even in the wizarding world where much of these types of things are ignored."

"How do you mean, Miss Granger," McGonagall was interested.

"If Harry, Ron, and I return to Hogwarts as though nothing happened and nothing is wrong… the Slytherins who are reporting back to their parents on our every move will start to wonder why. The logical thing, yes, would be to hide us out in Grimmauld Place or some such," she acknowledged. "Which is precisely why we _can't do it_," she emphasized the last few words.

"So by making a show of confidence when we should be reeling…" Harry pondered.

"Make them falter," Hermione smiled. "Wonder what we know that they don't."

Snape regarded Hermione quietly, his eyes calculating.

"As much as it may make them falter," McGonagall said, "I still have concerns over your security at Hogwarts, which will be lessened a good deal by Professor Snape's absence."

"No more Hogsmeade trips," Harry promised ruefully.

"Not just that though," Remus insisted. "You really shouldn't set foot outside the castle walls. Which would also mean no quidditch."

Hermione was mildly amused by the sad looks on Harry and Ron's faces, but she quelled the laugh.

"We'd already canceled a game in your absence anyway," McGonagall told them, "Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw never faced one another. We can just maintain that it was a staff-wide decision for student safety- which is was, really."

They nodded glumly.

"What about apparition lessons?" Snape surprised everyone by speaking up for the first time. "Albus, they can't go to Hogsmeade to perform the tests, it'd be the perfect spot to ambush them. But they really should learn, and soon. As we found out here," his voice was silkily dangerous, "occlumency is not the only skill that would be widely beneficial when facing the Dark Lord."

"We taught Hermione, Severus," Remus mused. "Why not bring Harry and Ron here a couple nights a week like we did with her? A safe, secluded, faster teaching environment."

"It is possible," Snape conceded, eyes glittering. Harry and Ron looked slightly uncomfortable at being discussed like they weren't present, as well as at the idea of spending so much personal time with Snape, Hermione guessed.

"Are we all in favor that Mssrs. Potter and Weasley and Miss Granger should return for the rest of term then?" Dumbledore asked pleasantly. None voiced any opposition. "Excellent then! It seems best that we take you back tonight, you can fit back into a semi-usual routine before the new week, talk to your professors, see what you have missed. Which reminds me," he murmured, "I'll have to figure out what to do about potions for the next two months…"

Harry and Ron looked slightly less excited to be returning when they realized that they had some two weeks of classes to catch up in, but Hermione was fairly sure that everyone would be understanding in the matter.

The group adjourned. Hermione went to head upstairs with Harry and Ron, but a firm hand grasped her elbow before she made it very far. She looked up, surprised, into Professor Snape's dark, shrewd eyes.

"Sir?" Ron and Harry both looked mildly perturbed by his closeness, but she ignored it.

"A word, Miss Granger?" he murmured quietly. She nodded and he motioned that she should follow him down to his labs. She gave Harry and Ron a reassuring look, and then proceeded after Snape.

As they wound their way downstairs, Snape spoke close by her side. "I'd like to discuss a few matters of potions and…_psychological _warfare, as you so deemed it."

Unsure what exactly he had in mind, she said nothing as they settled down in chairs in a secluded corner of the lab where he kept his brewing books. She suspected this served the double purpose of reference and amusement whilst he was waiting for something to simmer.

"So…potions first," he said, once she sat and assured him that she required no tea or other sort of refreshment. "I must admit, I held out a bit of hope that the vote would go against you up there."

"Why?" Hermione was genuinely surprised.

"Quite frankly," he stated, "I could use you. Here." She was silent for several long moments. She actually felt a tad guilty for not considering that before.

"Surely you can find someone with a better working knowledge of potions than me," she supposed.

"In the Order?" he nearly snorted with laughter. "Hardly. Most Order members excelled in Defense and Charms, you can't defeat a dark wizard by sitting down and brewing a calming draught. Most in the Order prefer a more direct approach to life."

"Foolish wand waving?" Hermione smirked.

"Quite."

She pondered a few more moments. "I can still come help with the potion," she told him. "It won't be any different than all year, I'll just be coming here instead of the dungeons."

"Perhaps," he said slowly. "This, however, will be consuming most of my days, at least until I run out of phoenix tears. Which actually brings me to point number two regarding potions." He was silent for a bit, considering her.

"I'll need you to spend most of your summer here, I'm beginning to think."

"Oh!" Again, she hadn't thought about it. "Of course, that's fine," she assured him, "though I'd rather hope that I'd have access to Grimmauld Place this time."

"Of course, of course," he waved away her concern, "though it is not for your safety this time, per say. I'll need to take an extended period of time away from my lab to conduct a search for larger quantities of tears. And therefore, I would like to spend the first half of the summer at least training you as a type of informal assistant. Of course, you are already vastly familiar with the potion that will be our primary concern, but your knowledge is largely theoretical, and I will need to make sure that your brewing abilities will suffice. Then, when I leave, you will be responsible for the lab- not longer than a week or two, I assure you."

She nodded her acquiescence, humbled that he trust his treasured lab in her hands.

"Very well," his demeanor was very businesslike. "And now- psychological warfare."

"What about it, sir?"

"It is an interesting concept that, as you pointed out, the wizarding world is largely dumb to. Much as most of the Order enjoy straightforward, quick battles, wizards in general do not spend much time learning things like logic, as you discovered on the quest to retrieve the Sorcerer's Stone from…well, me, as I understand it," is tone was mildly teasing, and Hermione looked slightly embarrassed.

"Sorry," she said. "We were a little, er…rash and impulsive in first year…"

"And so Potter and Weasley continue to be. When exactly did you distance yourself from their foolhardy ways?"

Hermione looked unsettled. "Probably when people started dying," she murmured. "Cedric…well, that probably wasn't Harry's fault at all. He had nothing to do with being selected for the tournament, and poor Cedric just wound up in the very wrong place at the wrong time. But Sirius…" her voice broke. "If only Harry hadn't so quickly jumped to conclusions, wasn't so sure that he'd been captured…"

Snape wisely chose to say nothing, imagining that insulting Black's rashness as well would only serve to anger the girl.

She pulled herself together. "Sorry," she muttered, and was grateful when he did not comment further and instead, continued his prior line of thought.

"In much the same way that you would like to confuse the Dark Lord and his death eaters by maintaining a normal life, I too would like to cause a bit of…discord…within his ranks."

"How so?" Hermione was mildly perplexed.

"Come now," he chided her gently, "think. Until the knowledge of the potion we have labored so long and hard to create becomes public, what would any one of his followers think upon seeing me, much less the Dark Lord himself?"

Understanding dawned on her. "That you were a ghost perhaps, some kind of perturbed spirit with unfinished business."

"Precisely. And I'd like you to brainstorm this idea over the next couple months. We'll give the wizarding world – and the Dark Lord - that much time to adjust to my death. Which will make it all the more jolting when rumors begin circulating of my appearance somewhere. I'm just not sure what the best method of going about this is."

"I'll give it some thought," Hermione promised. "Was there anything else?" she asked.

There were a few moments silence in which Snape considered her.

"I'd only like to reiterate my warning from some months ago about your relationship with Draco Malfoy," he murmured quietly. She flushed slightly.

"We know we can't interact at Hogwarts," she defended herself, "we won't jeopardize his position."

"See that you don't," Snape told her shortly. "He is in too fine a spot now, and the last thing he needs is for Lucius to doubt his true loyalties."

Hermione frowned. "Would Lucius kill his own son?"

Snape pondered this for a moment. "No, not directly anyway. He would ask the Dark Lord to set him a task, most likely, something to prove his worth once more. Just to be sure that he hadn't strayed."

Hermione shook her head in wonder that a parent could be so cold, care more about Voldemort than his own son.

"I have hope still for Lucius," Snape told her, as though reading her thoughts…which, she realized, he very well could be. "If ever he truly had to choose between Draco and the Dark Lord, I am not entirely sure which way he would go. Perhaps time will tell, though."

She took her leave of him shortly after that. Mind wandering in about ten different directions, she went upstairs to find Harry and Ron waiting for her, already having gathered the few things that they had at Snape's house.

"What was that about?" Harry asked.

"Professor Snape just had a few things he wanted to ask me," she told them. "About this summer mostly. He's going to need some help with the potion." She didn't mention the rest of the conversation. "So are you two ready to go catch up in school after all this time?" she asked, smirking at them. And with exaggerated groans of pain, they went to find Remus and Professor McGonagall, who would accompany them back to Hogwarts.

**A/N: Well that's chapter 1. Just getting things started off. I'm pretty stoked. :-D **

**Hopefully I'll get a few more up in the next week *fingers crossed* It's finals week, so who knows? **

**Cheers!**


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Shocking, but guess what? It's still Rowling's…not mine. **

**Quick A/N: I noticed a continuity error in the prequel…at one point, it references Harry and Hermione continuing NEWT potions, but not Ron. Later, there are mentions of Ron being in class…for purposes of this, I will continue that it is only Harry and Hermione and at some point, I will have to fix a few such errors in the original (such as the one with Remus helping them the same night as the full moon, a couple issues with Fudge, etc).**

**Chapter 2**

It was almost as bad as Hermione had feared. Somehow- and she couldn't quite figure out how- but somehow, word had pretty well spread through the school about their exploits at the hands of Voldemort. But for once, _she_ was the center of attention, from the awed looks of the younger students to the derisive sneers from a lot of the older Slytherins. Seemingly, everyone had heard about how she had essentially single-handedly thwarted Voldemort, and even the professors seemed to regard her with a measure of respect that went beyond her academic prowess. There was also rampant speculation about the demise of Professor Snape, though Hermione did her best to ignore that, afraid she'd say something she wasn't supposed to or burst out laughing.

She was remarkably uncomfortable at it all, and finally felt like she had a better idea of what Harry went through on a regular basis.

They'd found a new potions professor in a very short amount of time, Hermione remarked, following Professor Dumbledore's speech midway through the week that potions lessons would resume as normal. She was kind of disappointed; she couldn't really imagine someone besides Snape teaching the class and, while most of the student body had never enjoyed his class, she knew it just wouldn't be the same.

The new professor was a young woman named Aurelia Coehlo. Her speech was tinged with some minor accent Hermione suspected was Spanish or Portuguese. She was simple and straightforward, correcting people when wrong, but not going out of her way to intimidate as Snape usually had. Consequently, potions classes seemed much more laid back than ever that week, with even Harry being caught enjoying himself once or twice. To Hermione's disappointment, Coehlo had disbanded the partner groups, telling them to work with whomever they desired. So there was no chance of working with Draco and she paired up with Harry instead.

It was odd, but Hermione found herself suddenly restless, even with all of the work she had to catch up on. Most professors were being lenient on the makeup work, with Flitwick and Sprout assigning only those tasks which got across the main points that the three had missed. McGonagall was less indulgent, probably out of anger at Harry and Ron's actions in the first place which led them to be caught. She'd gotten so used to juggling so many different things though, that it was weird only having classes to worry about. She found herself wondering some nights if she would be able to go back to Snape's and see if he needed any help but then decided that he would request it when he needed or wanted it.

Parvati and Lavender seemed to notice something was up as well, considering Hermione had been gone half the nights of the week since November, but they didn't say anything about it. Occasionally, she caught them shooting fleeting glances in her direction and wasn't sure if they were annoyed at her consistent presence once more, or wondering of where she had been disappearing to all of those nights. Hermione was content to let them think she had been sneaking off to spend the night with some boy in another house, which was inevitably where the two fickle girls' minds would lead them.

Two weeks went by before there was any mention towards Harry and Ron pursuing apparition lessons. One day though, Dumbledore summoned Harry to his office and he relayed the message to Ron and Hermione later that day.

"He wants the two of us to go to Grimmauld Place tomorrow night," he gestured towards himself and Ron, "and says that you're to go to Snape's." Hermione could barely conceal her surprise.

"Oh. Did he say why? I thought Professor Snape was helping teach apparition with Remus."

Harry shrugged. "Apparently there's a change of plans," he said, "but no, he didn't specify what Professor Snape wanted you there for."

Hermione nodded, remarking Ron's discomfit.

"Look," she said kindly to Ron, "I know that you were led to believe some things about Professor Snape, but you don't need to worry. He's really a good man, and he's helped me out in the last year more than I can even say."

Ron sighed. "I know," he said exasperatedly, "it's just an odd arrangement, Hermione. I mean, you've been spending a bunch of time _alone_ with him, and he's your teacher and everything."

"He's not anymore, Ronald," Hermione's logical response, she realized too late, was the wrong one. Ron's eyes flashed. "Oh, stop being ridiculous, we've been working together on an incredibly important potion, a potion that was so secret even the Order wasn't allowed to know of it until it was test-used on Professor Snape. Of course we've been spending time _alone_ for that, but it's strictly academic."

Ron flushed, but said nothing more on the subject.

SCENESCENESCENESCENESCENESCENESCENE

The next night found Hermione, Harry, and Ron in Professor McGonagall's office at eight o'clock sharp.

"Very well, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, you are going to Grimmauld Place, I understand?" They nodded. "And Ms. Granger, back to Prince Manor?" She also nodded her compliance. "Are you all expecting to be returning this evening, or tomorrow morning?" Hermione started. She hadn't considered that she might not return that evening and, if not, was not prepared to spend the night elsewhere.

"It wasn't really specified, professor," Harry told her.

"Very well," McGonagall motioned them towards the floo. "Well your best option would be to return via the Room of Requirement." They all murmured their assent, and flooed to their respective locations.

Hermione found herself in Snape's sitting room, as usual. She didn't see Snape right away, and assumed that he'd be in his lab. She was en route though, when he called her from the dining room table.

"Tea, Miss Granger?" he asked cordially. Startled, she accepted and sat down next to him.

"Good evening, professor," she said. "How has the freedom from teaching been treating you?"

"Wonderfully," he replied without thought. "My time and devotion can be spent elsewhere."

"Are you working on lots of potions, then?" Hermione asked.

"Dear me, Miss Granger, surely you don't imagine that my entire day consists of potions, food, and sleep. Well, at Hogwarts, it consisted of teaching, potions, the Dark Lord, food, and sleep, but now, I find I have much more time to direct towards other interests."

"Of course," Hermione stammered, feeling somewhat foolish, though she wasn't entirely sure why. She was suddenly a bit apprehensive; she'd been wanting to ask Snape about something for some time now, but hadn't quite managed to work out how to phrase it right.

He continued. "I do have a certain fondness for some muggle poetry," he told her, "as well as some classical music. It has been refreshing to be able to relax to some Bach without the constant worry of being summoned to the Dark Lord's side at any time of night."

Hermione smiled. Never had she encountered a wizard with more than a passing interest in anything muggle, besides Arthur Weasley who was decidedly more attracted to the modern technological aspects of muggle life than centuries old compositions and literature.

"I'm not too familiar with Bach," she admitted, "though there is one piece on the cello that I have always particularly enjoyed. It's called-," he cut her off with a hand.

"Let me guess," he murmured, waving his wand. The very piece of music Hermione had been referring to began playing throughout the house, though she wasn't sure how he did it.

"Cello suite number one?" he asked.

"How'd you guess?" she smiled wryly.

He shrugged. "It has a certain something- a brooding darkness."

"Brooding darkness, huh?" she asked. "Not something one often uses to describe me," she teased.

"It's all in the eyes," he said quietly. "Legilimency teaches you to recognize these things."

Hermione found herself suddenly uncomfortable under his piercing look. He seemed to sense this, and lightened the mood.

"How is Professor Coehlo?"

Hermione shrugged. "Acceptable. Unremarkable." Snape nodded.

"That's one of the reasons I recommended her to Albus," he told her.

"You know her?"

"We worked together for a brief time several summers ago. I believe it was…" he thought for a few seconds, "four years before you entered Hogwarts. Just a summer research project for the Ministry. She is simple and succinct, and will not draw attention to herself. That is probably the best option for the position at the moment. She is planning only to fulfill the remainder of the term and then go back to her independent research."

"She broke up our partner groups," Hermione mentioned. "Told us to work with whoever we wanted or independently." Snape regarded her for a moment. "That was your idea?" she guessed.

"I suggested to Dumbledore that it would be…_prudent_," Snape told her unashamedly. "There is no circumstance in which Slytherins should see you willingly and comfortably working with Draco," he said more sternly. "They need to believe that he is under constant scrutiny after allegations of his 'attack' on you."

"I am aware," Hermione replied stiffly.

Silence reigned for a few minutes while each drank tea and collected thoughts.

"Why am I here?" Hermione finally asked, curious. "I'd assumed it had something to do with the potion…" she trailed off.

"Not specifically," Snape assured her. "More my own personal interest in matters at Hogwarts in my absence. I must confess it is…strange…working without you after all of this time, but nothing I can not handle at the moment, at least not until I acquire a larger batch of phoenix tears to work with. And I also thought that, perhaps, you would enjoy a night out of Gryffindor tower," he suggested amusedly. "I daresay that Miss Brown and Miss Patil are not quite your peers on several levels, nor your favorite individuals with whom to interact. And given that Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley were to be practicing apparition for the first time, it seemed a reasonable night to request your presence."

"Oh, that reminds me," Hermione remembered, "I thought you were supposed to be helping with that?"

"I may in the future," Snape waved his hand dismissively. "For now though, Shacklebolt will aid Lupin in the matter, it is a better idea while they are still new to it, in case any explaining needs to be done to the Ministry. Given my 'death' and Lupin's less-than-accepted reception at the Ministry, it was decided that an auror would be a better choice."

As he spoke, Hermione finally realized something that she had not considered before. As hermit-like as he may have seemed before, he interacted with dozens of students every day, as well as all of the professors at meals. Just maybe he was simply bored stuck here by himself, much as she had been last summer before the two had struck their semi-friendship under the guise of working on potions.

"What is on your mind, Miss Granger?" Snape asked. "You seem a tad distracted. Am I keeping you from any particular studies?"

"Oh no," she replied cheekily, "come now. Surely you don't imagine my entire day consists of sleeping, eating, and _studying_," she laughed.

"Touché," he murmured. But still he regarded her questioningly, so she figured she may as well jump.

"There's something I've wanted to ask you about for a while now," started off slowly. "But the thing is, it's a little personal I think, and I don't want to intrude or anything, but it kind of involves me too, so I figured I should just go ahead and ask and hope you weren't mad or-," he cut her off.

"Please, Miss Granger, just ask," he told her amusedly. "You could ramble for hours at your current rate."

She took a deep breath. "Professor Dumbledore warned you that you should put your memories of me staying with you into a pensieve last summer, but you didn't. And I was wondering why."

There were several long moments of terse silence.

"Why he wanted me to in the first place, or why I did not choose to?" Snape queried lightly.

"Oh, er, the former, I guess," Hermione muttered, feeling rather awkward.

Snape stood up very suddenly, startling Hermione immensely. "Come with me," he commanded shortly, and headed up the stairs.

She followed him quietly to the next level of the house and followed him, surprisingly, she thought, to his own room. He knelt down, opened a cabinet near his desk, and pulled out a large, stone basin that Hermione recognized as a pensieve. She shot him a questioning look.

"I did learn my lesson, I think you'll agree," he told her. "The memory I am about to show you, however, is not of you, but of that conversation I had with Professor Dumbledore. There is something you should understand first though, before you witness it and run away screaming." Hermione started.

"I was a young, foolish boy, a half-blood who, like Tom Riddle, despised my muggle father, much as he despised me. I grew up in a small town not far from here- this house came into my inheritance shortly following my graduation from Hogwarts upon the death of my uncle, Reginald Prince. I spent ten years of my life being ingrained that muggles were horrible because of just one- my father. And also like Tom Riddle, I took great pride in my wizarding roots on my mother's side, and I quickly fell in with the crowd at Hogwarts which tossed around such terms as 'mudblood' with no thought or consideration whatsoever.

"Did I truly believe pure-bloods were superior to muggle borns? Heavens no. My best friend from the age of ten was a muggle born witch, and we spent the first several years of Hogwarts as close friends. But the more I fell in with the crowd of would-be Death Eaters, Lucius Malfoy at the head, the more she pulled away. And as she fell from my grasp, the more I realized I cared deeply for her- loved her even.

"It was here I learned what a powerful thing love can be. Losing it drove me further into the Dark Lords hands. The threat of her death, however, drove me right back into Albus Dumbledore's, anything I could do to try and save her, though she'd left me for good already." His face looked pained, and Hermione was stricken.

"This conversation took place later the same morning that you helped me heal my several wounds earned at the Dark Lord's service." He motioned towards the pensieve and it began swirling faster and faster through the montage of memories stored within, finally settling on one. Hermione leaned closer, disappearing into the mist of the memory.

"_It's been two hours, Severus," Dumbledore gently called to him as he slept in a spare bedroom in Grimmauld Place, following his arrival with half-bandaged wounds a few hours prior. He had gotten his wand wrist healed properly and the other wounds checked over before nearly collapsing in weariness, at which point Dumbledore had insisted he lay down for an hour or so. He'd fallen asleep, and Dumbledore knew he didn't want to stay too late into the morning. _

_Snape twitched, startled. He looked perplexed for a moment before recalling where he was and why he was there. His vision clouded over for a second; he seemed to be recalling something, and then he looked troubled. _

"_Everything alright, my boy?" Dumbledore queried, worried. _

"_Perfect," Snape stated wryly, standing up to take his leave. Had Dumbledore been here the whole time he slept? _

"_You haven't spoken of Lily in many years now, Severus," Dumbledore said quietly. _

_Snape's face paled. He remembered his dreams. But how did Dumbledore…?_

"_You kept calling to her in your sleep," Dumbledore told him softly._

_Snape grunted and dragged himself from the bed. He didn't particularly feel the need for the lecture about the ghosts of his past just because of one…or two…silly dreams. _

"_Perhaps you were right, Severus. Perhaps it was a mistake to leave Miss Granger with you this summer, alone in that big house."_

_Snape spun on the spot, angry and perturbed. "And what, pray tell, does __she__ have to do with anything?" he growled. _

_Dumbledore looked sad. "Severus, I've seen the similarities between her and Lily Evans for a long time now. It was foolish of me not to realize that you would do the same, especially with little company but each other." _

_Snape was astounded, and more than a little irritated. "Albus, don't think I don't know my own place as a professor in school or out, or my own limitations as a man, regardless how similar that _girl_ may be to another we once knew," he winced, the words even sounding harsh in his own ears. To his chagrin, Dumbledore chuckled, his eyes twinkling. _

"_Oh, dear me, Severus," he exclaimed, "you misunderstand me completely! Of course I have perfect faith in you and your judgment, I didn't mean to insult you in such a manner. However, I begin to fear what emotional effect she might have on you." Snape raised an eyebrow at this. "In so many years of knowing you, I have never encountered your mind so unguarded and open as it was while you slept, and it worries me," he paused. "Perhaps a pensieve would not be a bad idea," he suggested quietly. _

_Snape laughed derisively. "In seventeen years, never once have I slipped, my occlumency skills are too finely honed for such a mistake. And to suggest that she might be the cause of it...it's absurd," he concluded. _

"_Everyone makes mistakes sometimes, Severus," Dumbledore said quietly. "If he entertains even the slightest thought that she's with you, the consequences for our side will be dire." _

"_I've already made my mistakes, and they were a long time ago," Snape said. He rose. "And now, I must be returning, I have some things to take care." _

"_Just think on it, Severus…"_

Hermione reemerged from the pensieve, stunned.

"Harry's mother?" she asked, then winced mentally. This was obvious a very painful subject.

Snape sighed, a bit bitterly. "Lily Evans. She was my neighbor. I discovered her magical talent, was drawn to her as a little boy. She was my savior from an unpleasant household, and I was her only link to a world she could scarcely imagine until she first set foot inside of Hogwarts."

"I'm sorry," was all Hermione could think to offer. Her mind was working about a mile a minute trying to fully comprehend what had been revealed to her just now.

Snape eyed her ponderously. "You are not…disturbed? Afraid?"

"Of what?" Hermione was baffled at the question.

"The implication that the reason I slipped in my occlumency skills is because you are too similar to the woman I loved too much to handle her relationship with James Potter, that it drove me to finally deciding to become a death eater," he stated this as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Oh," she flushed. "That." She thought on it. "No," she decided, "it doesn't bother me. You and I…we've been through a lot together this past year," she managed. "For good and for bad. And, to finally better understand what you've been going through at the same time, the sacrifices you've made…how could I possibly begrudge you any of that? And I- I didn't take it to mean that you were, like, attracted to _me_ like that," she stammered.

He smiled wistfully at her. "Perhaps not," he conceded. "But I do care for you, I hope you understand. I don't tell people my deepest secrets. You, however, have brought me back to a level of communicativeness that even Albus has been hard pressed to achieve in seventeen years. You have also, in a roundabout way, helped me gain my freedom from the Dark Lord through your major breakthroughs in the potion," he pointed out. "In a way, you have fulfilled what Lily could not," he murmured.

Hermione was silent. He had given her a lot to think on.

**A/N: So I'm not sure how I feel about that chapter actually. WAY OC Snape…but that's also the point…he's free now, and IS a whole new person. **

**So I dunno…thoughts? Should I revise it and make it a bit less…weird?**

**Cheers!**


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: Been a while…sorry…summer job was time consuming **

Disclaimer: Anything recognizable is JK Rowling's. Damn.

**Chapter 3**

"It's getting rather late," Hermione finally remarked. She and Professor Snape had sat up for another couple of hours talking, lightening the mood considerably from prior subjects. She was starting to get worried though- the three of them were strictly forbidden from roaming the castle alone, especially at night. Snape checked the time as well.

"So it is. I would say I'd escort you back, but, well…" he smirked slyly at her. "I daresay I would be liable to cause some discord among the student body. Did you arrange to rendez-vous with Potter and Weasley to return to Gryffindor Tower together?"

"No," she frowned, "we kind of skipped that part. I'll be fine though; the Room of Requirement isn't far at all from the common room, and I can just disillusion myself for a little extra security."

"Very well. See that you do. The last thing I need is for Minerva to hex my ears- or some equally undesirable body parts- off because her favorite student was abducted…again…and didn't even get a chance to take her final examinations," he mocked gently. He paused, then said, "You can, of course, stay in your usual room upstairs if you'd prefer to not have to sneak around the castle tonight."

"I would if I'd thought about it before getting here," Hermione explained, exasperated. "It didn't even occur to me to bring pajamas or a change of clothes or anything. Next time though," she smiled. "I'm sure you're just dying to have my bright, morning self back," she remembered the time she'd been completely incoherent and slap-happy at breakfast last summer. That seemed like an eternity ago. It was also about the time of the changing point in their relationship.

He smiled lightly in return. "Until next time, Miss Granger."

SCENESCENESCENESCENESCENESCENE

The remainder of term flew by faster than Hermione thought possible. Her trips to visit Professor Snape were few and far between, but she had enough school work to keep her occupied. Once final exams were only a few weeks away, she was back to her usual, overly organized self, making study schedules, sitting in the library until all hours of the night, annoying the entire Gryffindor house by insisting on relative silence in the common room at most hours.

"N.E.W.T.s are only a year away!" she exclaimed to Ron and Harry, totally nonplussed by their lack of appropriate fear for the upcoming exams. "And I'd think you'd be more worried about these tests than usual, given that you were completely gone for a couple of weeks in the middle of term…"

Sighing at her constant nagging, Harry and Ron did their best to placate her but, the truth was, Harry spent more time thinking about how miserable his summer would be. He hated the end of term at Hogwarts, and the prospect of returning home to the Dursley's. Hopefully Dumbledore would let this be a short trip once more. And his seventeenth birthday was in just over a month after Hogwarts began summer holidays. Then he'd be considered a full adult in the Wizarding world, and this, Dumbledore told him last summer, would be when number four Privet Drive ceased to hold the protections which prevented Voldemort and his followers from finding him there. So really, after July 31st, there'd be no point to staying in Little Whinging. In fact, it would most certainly end poorly for the Dursleys if he did, Harry realized with a jolt. He would have to ask Dumbledore about that one.

In the middle of exam week, Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny were all summoned to Dumbledore's office together. Lupin was also there. At first, Hermione was concerned that something awful had happened, but the smile on Lupin's face and the twinkle in Dumbledore's eye were enough to convince them otherwise.

"We have to talk about summer," Lupin began the little meeting. "Starting with how we're getting the four of you where you need to go once term is over." He raised a hand to quell what would have undoubtedly been a protest against not using the Hogwarts Express from Ron. "I'm afraid that you'll have to trust us on this one. The train is vulnerable, and the Ministry _is_ allotting a small guard for it; but honestly, just outright removing the temptation of it as a target makes the most sense and will hopefully keep all of the children safe."

Harry nodded in agreement, though he generally enjoyed those last several hours of bandying about with his friends, using magic for the last time until September- though, that would be different now, as they were all of age or soon would be.

"And so," Dumbledore continued where Lupin left off, "we have been discussing the best means of transporting you all. Mr. and Miss Weasley will be returning to Grimmauld Place by means of the Floo network. Mr. Potter, getting you to Little Whinging," he at least had the grace to appear apologetic about the fact, "will be more difficult. I think I may be calling upon the assistance of Fawkes for that honor."

Harry looked both skeptical and amazed. "Would Fawkes actually transport me?"

"He has clearly shown a strong willingness to protect and aid you in times of need," Dumbledore observed gently.

"How long do I have to stay with my aunt and uncle?" Harry asked, trying not to sound to dismal about the prospect. "I'll be of age at the end of July after all."

"Only a couple of weeks, I assure you. It should be enough time."

Harry looked confused. "Enough time for what? For the protection to stay until my birthday?"

Dumbledore looked slightly grimmer. "Enough time for you to help your aunt finish persuading your uncle that they, with your cousin, need to leave before your seventeenth birthday, effectively change their entire identities, and lie low until Voldemort is defeated."

Harry gaped.

"Do not fear, I have already begun the process. Preliminary plans have been made, resources made available to cover the cost of this endeavor. Petunia is struggling to convince her husband once and for all that it is necessary." He sighed. "It is amazing the levels to which ignorance can prove devastating."

"You've been writing my aunt?" Harry was growing more and more suspicious by the minute.

"We have had some prior correspondence, I assure you," Dumbledore smiled at what seemed a wistful memory. "She may not like to acknowledge this world, but she is much more directly connected to it than your uncle, and she knows what it can do even to most adamant muggles of all."

"Now, Hermione," Lupin turned his attention to her. "We'd have made better plans for you except we were unaware of what exactly your intentions for this summer were…" He trailed off ambiguously, and she knew he did not address the matter of Snape more directly for Ginny's sake. She, along with members of the Order who had not been present the night of the moon ritual, would discover more about his survival after term ended.

"I'd like to spend some time with my parents," she started slowly, gauging their reactions. Surprisingly, there were no objections.

"I think you've proven yourself well capable of handling some time in the non-magical world without extensive looking-after," Dumbledore smiled fondly at her. "And there is always at least one Order member with your parents, so you won't be entirely alone, should anything go amiss."

"Then I think I will floo somewhere from which I can apparate directly to my parents'," Hermione informed them. She tried to put meaning behind her eyes- she would not go to Grimmauld Place, but rather to Prince Residence. "Spend a few days here and there throughout the summer with them perhaps. I should be fine though- I will, of course, always let you know where I am, but I'm of age, so apparating around won't get me into any trouble. I'll, of course, be around Grimmauld Place when possible as well," she made sure to point out to Ron, Harry, and Ginny.

Ginny frowned. "If you aren't staying with your family and not with us…?" she let the question hang, seeming to sense her inability to answer it directly.

"Miss Granger here has some lingering business which will keep her elsewhere for much of the holidays," Dumbledore kindly informed her. "But do not fear- she will be in good hands."

"And so, the last part we need to figure out is when exactly you'll all be leaving," Remus continued. "Ginny, your O.W.L. results will not be in until mid summer- you other three will be receiving examination results at the end of next week. Given that you," he pointed at Ron, Harry, and Hermione again, "are banned from leaving the castle walls at the moment, and it would be less than wise for Ginny to do so either, if you four are willing to forego the end of term feast, we could just whisk you all away after this weekend. Minerva can bring you your exam results," he answered Hermione's unspoken question.

Harry and Ron looked like they were about to protest. But Harry reconsidered.

"Think about it," he muttered to him ruefully. "Exams end, what does everyone do? Go to Hogsmeade and laze around the lake or go flying on the pitch. We'd just be trapped indoors here or at home. And maybe I can come to Grimmauld place a week earlier if I go home a week earlier…" he looked hopefully at Dumbledore, who chuckled at nodded his agreement.

Ginny looked torn.

"I apologize, Miss Weasley," Dumbledore smiled sympathetically at her, "most of this was previously discussed in your absence. In light of recent events, and Voldemort's heightened frustration," his eyes twinkled, "we decided that it was rather in the best interests of all if Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, and your brother did not leave the castle. We have not placed this restriction upon yourself, and I will not place it now, but I ask you consider the danger of remaining here during a free, unstructured week. Voldemort has not hesitated to use you as bait to get to Harry before," he pointed out gently. "Your mother has asked me to tell you that she wishes for you to return home early, but understands if you choose to stay to celebrate the end of O.W.L.s with the rest of your classmates."

"I'll come home early, of course," Ginny looked a bit down, but agreed.

"Excellent! Then I think we will arrange for you all to leave on Sunday night. Do be packed and ready by eight please."

SCENESCENESCENESCENESCENESCENESCENE

Exams ended on Friday afternoon to the sound of great cheering all around. Most celebrated in the warm June sun out by the lake. Determined to not lose completely out on the festive spirit, however, Hermione set up a fun surprise for Harry and Ron. At the top of the astronomy tower, where the sun warmed the stones and one could actually feel the breeze whip about, she set up a picnic for the three of them.

"You're the best, Hermione!" Ron exclaimed as he dug into the food.

Harry smiled wryly. "Are we even technically allowed to be up here except for lessons?"

Hermione shrugged. "If we can't go outside, I'm going to do the next best thing. And honestly, no one is going to go out of their way to get us into trouble," she pointed out, "not so close to the end of term. Especially since Professor Snape isn't here," she added. Harry snorted.

"My, my, Granger," the three looked up, startled, as two burly students walked into view, "You could at least sound a little more upset by the demise of your teacher."

Hermione kept her mouth shut, eyeing the two in front of them. She knew one was Nott, a sixth year Slytherin; the other was wearing Slytherin attire, but she didn't know him by name. Avery, perhaps.

"Shove off," Ron told them.

"Now, now," the younger of the two sounded falsely placating, "we just were walking and heard you up here and came to see what was going on. We heard you mention _poor_ Professor Snape," he was most definitely goading Hermione now, she noticed with frustration. This was not an encounter she wanted to have to act her way through. "Such a shame, him not being around any more, isn't it, Granger?"

She gave them a stony-eyed stare.

"Yeah," added Nott, "I mean, I know _you_ two didn't care for him so much," he gestured towards Harry and Ron, "but I was always under the impression that Granger was one of his _favorite_ students."

There was definitely no longer a question of whether word had traveled through the Slytherins about what exactly had happened to Snape.

"Come on guys," Hermione said through gritted teeth, "let's go."

She stood up to leave, but as she started to gather her things, Nott grabbed a hold of her arm. She felt a surge of fury course through her body and went to draw her wand. It wasn't necessary though. Nott had already fallen to the ground, unconscious. The other looked accusingly at Harry and Ron, but they hadn't moved. Hermione beckoned them forward and they followed, wide-eyed.

"Hey, what the hell did you…?" The Slytherin's question was cut off as a silencing spell fell over the tower. The door to the stairway burst open as Hermione approached it and she descended quickly, breathing hard.

Once they reached the bottom of the tower and were back in the main part of the castle, Harry pulled Ron and Hermione into an empty classroom, and he pushed Hermione into a chair.

"You alright?" he looked a little anxious. "I've never seen you lose control over magic like that."

"I'm fine," she said shortly. "It was hardly losing control, I didn't blow anyone up," she looked pointedly at Harry.

"Right," he grinned, "well nonetheless, you let him get to you awfully fast."

"You're really going to lecture me about being hot-headed?" Hermione looked remarkably skeptical.

Harry held up his hands in defeat. "I guess not," he told her, frowning.

"Good," she said, and she left, leaving a very confused Harry and Ron in her wake.

SCENESCENESCENESCENESCENESCENESCENE

**A/N: sorry for the long wait. Been a busy summer, but I've spent a lot of time thinking about where this is going at least. :-) Now just to write it… ;-) **

**I'm hoping it shan't be a long wait on the next one! Until then! **

**Cheers!**


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Still not mine. **

**Chapter 4**

It wasn't to the Gryffindor common room that Hermione fled after leaving Harry and Ron. She wasn't even entirely sure where she was going until she was already there. After taking several corridors and a couple of hidden tapestry passages, she found herself in the hall of the Room of Requirement. She entered the room with no clear picture of what she required, per say. However, she found it bare except for a fireplace and a jar of floo powder. Smiling to herself and shaking her head, she grabbed a handful and stepped into the fireplace.

SCENESCENESCENESCENESCENESCENE

"Potter! Weasley!" The two of them turned and found Professor McGonagall walking quickly down the corridor towards them.

"Have either of you seen Miss Granger recently?" she asked. They shot each other a look, and her eyes narrowed shrewdly.

"Not…exactly," Ron told her.

"What does that mean?" McGonagall's nostrils flared a little.

"She sort of…er…got a little peeved with us and took off. About an hour ago. We've been looking for her since."

"Well I just spoke with Professor Sinistra who went to ensure that everything was set up on the astronomy tower for the stargazing N.E.W.T. tonight. Apparently when she got there, she found Mr. Nott unconscious on the tower, and Avery unable to _Rennervate_ him due to a silencing spell. Once Mr. Avery was able to speak and Mr. Nott was awake, they both assured me that Miss Granger 'attacked them' with no provocation and then left." She took a breath. "Now, while I'm sure that 'no provocation' is a bit of an overstatement," she had a hint of a smile upon her face, "it is unacceptable for Miss Granger to be stunning her classmates on the astronomy tower and leaving them there. Now, you said you've been unable to locate her?" For the first time, she looked concerned. "Do you think she's left the castle?"

"Er…" Harry paused, looking around. A few students could be heard as they began to head down for dinner. "Perhaps this conversation would be more appropriate in a private location," he indicated. McGonagall shot him a quizzical look but agreed, and she led them back to her office.

"Well, Potter? Do you know where Miss Granger went?"

"Not for sure, Professor, I'm sorry," Harry apologized, "but I have a pretty good guess that she went to Prince Manor."

McGonagall frowned. "I was not made aware that Severus was expecting her tonight."

"I don't think he was," Harry explained. "But the incident with Nott and Avery sort of had to do with Professor Snape and Hermione got really mad or really upset- or both- and I've never seen her lose control of magic like that, she didn't even intentionally stun and silence the two, it just happened and she stormed out. I tried to tell her to calm down," he looked abashed, "and she up and left on us too. I don't think she's anywhere in the castle and, honestly, I can't imagine where else she would have gone."

She considered them for a few seconds before nodding her acceptance of the story. She looked as though she wanted to say or ask something else, but wasn't entirely sure how to phrase it.

"I know little of the substance, but I understand that there are some rumors which have been growing in fervor since your disappearance and reappearance. Rumors which are centered around Severus and Miss Granger."

Harry and Ron shot each other a sidelong glance. There was a question coming. And sure enough-

"Is there more to what happened while the three of you were in captivity than Albus is letting on? Something that would have a factor in Miss Granger's loss of control today? Something upsetting?"

"Er…" Ron fumbled for words, "not _exactly_…" Since some of the Slytherin students had begun to hear the 'true' story about why Snape was killed, they had few qualms about making snide comments about it in open, public settings. They were, however, smart enough to not use Malfoy's name, knowing that he would likely be expelled if word got beyond Professor Dumbledore, who undoubtedly already knew what had happened.

"We're not really at liberty to say, Professor," Harry stepped in. "Except that those students with ties to Voldemort have been led to believe very strongly that Professor Snape was loyal to Voldemort to the end."

McGonagall pursed her lips and was about to speak when a large, silver shape materialized in her office. It was a deer, Harry realized, a doe. More disconcerting than its sudden appearance in McGonagall's office was the fact that, when bidden by McGonagall it spoke, and it had Snape's voice.

"_Granger is at Prince Manor and will be returning to Hogwarts in time for breakfast tomorrow morning." _The voice had a strange, distant hollow sound.

Ron and Harry were baffled at talking patronuses, but McGonagall took it in stride. "Well, that seems to clear that up," she told them. "Thank you for your help, I'll catch up with Miss Granger after breakfast tomorrow."

Taking this as a dismissal, they left the office.

"Was that a patronus?" Ron asked Harry once they were a few corridors away and no one was in earshot.

"I reckon that's what Dumbledore meant last year when he told me that the Order has more secure ways of communicating than 'Dolores Umbridge's fireplace'," he sounded bitter.

SCENESCENESCENESCENESCENESCENESCENE

Black eyes met brown from several feet apart. Each was attempting to size up the other, anticipate the first move. Neither gave anything away, minds shielded against penetration.

Finally, Hermione made the first move. Flourishing her wand, she focused on the _Expelliarmus _charm…and found herself seconds later on the ground, but wand still in hand.

"Your problem lies not in casting a silent spell, nor in shielding your mind, but in doing both at once. You are focusing so strongly on what spell you want to cast that you are giving it away in the split second before you do." Snape lowered his wand from across the yard and looked pensive. "Tell me about the entity which became known as 'Dumbledore's Army'."

Hermione grinned. "Well, when Umbridge and the Ministry decided last year that teaching students how to defend themselves would be too dangerous, Harry, Ron, and I took it upon ourselves to help those who were interested develop their defensive skills beyond what they had already learned. I was in charge of membership and organization mostly. Harry was in charge of teaching. The name 'Dumbledore's Army' was actually a joke to reflect the ridiculous fear of Fudge and Umbridge. Though, in the end, it got Professor Dumbledore in more trouble than it was worth, perhaps."

"The six of you who ventured to the Ministry last June made it out alive, that's worth something," Snape pointed out quietly. Hermione flushed. Dolohov had managed to hit her with a curse that left her in the hospital wing taking several potions a day to recover. She chose not to respond though. The six students made it out alive, yes. Not everyone did, though. Hermione sought a change of topic.

"Speaking of defense, do you know if Professor Dumbledore has made any progress towards locating a new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor for next year?" This year had passed with a relative lack of events; the Defense professor, a retired auror, had only agreed to remain for one year before going back into retirement.

Snape shrugged. "If so, he's said nothing to the staff on the matter." Pause. "So, are you going to explain to me why you felt the need to be destructive? Not that it panned out too well," he smirked; he had disarmed, stunned, or knocked her over during every dueling attempt.

Hermione actually looked a little bashful. "I let a couple of Slytherins get to me earlier," she admitted ruefully. "I needed to take out my frustrations."

"What happened?" Snape frowned.

"Well, being restricted to the inside of the castle at all times, Harry, Ron, and I were having a picnic on top of the astronomy tower," Hermione fingered her wand in her pocket, "and Nott and Avery (I think) came up and started taunting me, mainly." She shrugged, slowly positioning her wand to bring it to bear, blocking her mind.

"And because of that-," Snape was cut off as Hermione in one fluid motion raised her wand and silently cast a disarming spell. His counter-spell was barely not fast enough, his wand flew from his hand and landed neatly in Hermione's. She grinned.

"I suppose that's one way of doing it," was Snape's dry response.

"I thought it a very good way," a quiet, appreciative voice came from the doorway.

"Lupin," Snape's grudging civility was drowned out by Hermione's "Remus!" as she ran to hug him. He smiled at her as she backed away.

"I didn't know you'd be here tonight."

"It was a sort of impromptu visit," she explained.

"Turned dueling lesson?" he joked.

"Something like that," Snape stepped in. "You're here for your potion, I assume?"

Lupin nodded. "Also, Albus wanted me to inform you that he'll be collecting as many Order members as possible for a powwow on Sunday night at nine." Hermione frowned.

"That's about the same time that we agreed that myself, Harry, Ron, and Ginny would be leaving Hogwarts," she observed.

"I think," Lupin began slowly as the three headed down to Snape's lab, "that Professor Dumbledore intends for the four of you to be there actually. Much of the Order has been living in the dark regarding the events of two months ago- some don't even know that Severus is alive. We've been keeping that information very close to our chests until everyone can hear the full story. Even Ginny doesn't know that her potions professor lives," he added. "It wouldn't much do for her to run in to Severus at Grimmauld Place, thinking he's dead and all," his eyes were mirthful.

"A severe disappointment that would be, I'm sure," Snape said wryly, picking up a goblet and handing it to Lupin. Lupin eyed it distastefully and then downed it in one, long, unpleasant-looking gulp that made Hermione cringe. "You're not staying at Hogwarts for the last week?" he directed his attention towards Hermione.

"We decided it was in the best interests of everyone involved if Harry and I especially are not on the Hogwarts Express," she explained quietly. "And if we leave early enough, there's no chance that anyone who's interested could _not_ notice that we're gone long before the train leaves. Hopefully that will eliminate any thoughts towards attacking it." She sighed heavily. "We can't leave the castle, we're the only three inside, me, Harry, and Ron. Doesn't matter much if we're at Hogwarts or not, now that exams are over."

"And what are your immediate plans upon leaving?" Snape questioned.

"Apparently we're having a meeting at Grimmauld Place," Hermione offered, amused. "After that, I'd like to spend a day or two with my parents, see how they're holding up in hiding," a brief twinge of guilt crossed her face. "After that, I'll be all yours for the summer," she said in a joking voice, quickly adding, "to help out in the lab!" when Lupin gave them a piercing look.

Not one for idle chatter, Snape excused himself while Hermione and Lupin exchanged a few more pleasantries and bid each other farewell until Sunday night. Once he'd left with a final farewell and thank you to Snape, Hermione joined Snape in the parlor. He was silent, and had a dark brooding look on his face.

"Er…is everything alright?" Hermione finally asked after a few minutes of tense silence.

"I don't like it," he said shortly.

She shot him a questioning look. "Sir?"

"Visiting your parents, by yourself in the muggle world."

"They're under constant Order protection," Hermione pointed out reasonably, "I'll hardly be left on my own if something should happen."

"That's no reason to give them an incentive to attack," Snape hissed. "There is no _Fidelius_ charm on their safe house, they already have to switch locations every few months to avoid detection, did you know that? They can't go outdoors, the danger is too great, now worse than ever, since the Dark Lord has established a personal vendetta against you."

"Professor," Hermione said with an air of impatience, "these are my parents. I'm not about to just jump in foolishly and risk their lives. I'm smarter than _that_. But I can't just never see them again."

Snape sneered lightly. "Of course you won't _purposely_ risk them. Doesn't change the fact that you're a seventeen-year-old witch who's still in school and has dueling skills that leave something to be desired."

Hermione frowned and was silent for several long moments.

"It's a simple matter of apparating," she said quietly and worriedly, "I don't really-," she was cut off.

"Bloody hell, witch! Don't I have enough to be worrying about without you running about the country on a whim?" Hermione just stared in shocked silence as he stormed out of the room and up the stairs.

For several minutes she sat, unsure if she should follow or just leave. Feeling it would be harsh to leave without another word though, she decided to venture upstairs and make one last attempt at talking to Snape. The door to his room was slightly ajar. She pushed it open and quietly walked in to see Snape sitting at his desk writing furiously. She said nothing but sat on the edge of the bed, watching him work.

Finally, after a couple minutes of this, he finished whatever he'd been working on and placed the quill back in its holder. They sat there like that for another minute before Hermione broke the silence.

"Everything's changing," she murmured. "Can you feel it?" Snape turned to face her.

"The pressure has been building for two years now," he acknowledged slowly. "But yes, it seems it will soon reach the erupting point."

"I think Harry's beginning to see it too. He knows that the time will come soon when he is forced to make a stand against _him_. You know," she continued, "on his seventeenth birthday, the protection his mother's sacrifice gave him will cease to be. His aunt and uncle and cousin have to move, change names, and remain totally hidden until they are no longer under threat of being a target. One of the reasons," her voice was a little choked up now, "that I need to go see my parents is to say a last goodbye, because after Harry turns seventeen, I'm never going to see them again until You-Know-Who is dead. They are going to move and change their names, and I won't even know where they are or what they're called." Her voice wavered slightly.

Snape came and sat next to her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Harry _will_ make his stand, and soon," her voice was stronger now, more defiant. "And I will stand with him until I am either a hindrance to his purpose or dead in the attempt to help."

Snape's hand squeezed her shoulder tightly. "I know," he murmured. "And that's what scares me."

**A/N: Not bad for me…two chapters in pretty quick succession. 0:-) **

**Until next time,**

**Cheers!**


	6. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: The usual- recognizable things are Rowling's. Boo. **

**Chapter 5**

Hermione made it to Sunday without further incident from any Slytherins and just a brief and semi-amused talking-to from Professor McGonagall. After apologizing profusely for leaving Nott stunned on the astronomy tower (though not for stunning him in the first place), McGonagall let her go without any form of punishment or loss of points.

At eight that night, Harry, Hermione, and the Weasley siblings congregated in Professor McGonagall's office to floo out of Hogwarts. Ron and Ginny went first, holding their school trunks which had been shrunk to the size of a small suitcase. Harry turned to Hermione before he left. They had rearranged plans for Harry; he would spend tonight at Grimmauld Place and tomorrow, Fawkes would transport him directly to number four Privet Drive (which was sure to go over wonderfully with the Dursley's, Harry thought).

"You're coming along at nine, right?" Professor Dumbledore had passed along the message to the other three that they were to be available at nine that night for a large Order get-together. Ginny was particularly most excited about actually being able to participate in some way, it seemed to make up for leaving Hogwarts early for the summer.

"Of course," she smiled. "I'll be there." She didn't reiterate Remus's suspicion that the meeting was largely for the purpose of sharing the details of what exactly had happened when Hermione, Ron, and Harry had escaped from Voldemort.

Hermione was flooing first to Prince Residence to drop off her stuff, seeing as how she'd be spending most of her summer there. Once she'd arrived, stepped out of the fireplace, and dusted the soot from her robes, she saw that Snape was already sitting, ready for her appearance.

"Miss Granger," he acknowledged slowly.

"Professor," she smiled lightly. Then she took more careful stock of his appearance. He looked tense, and as though he were only barely managing to suppress some very unpleasant and angry feelings. His lips were pressed together very thinly. "Sir?" she asked, alarmed. "Is something wrong?"

"Nothing at all," he hissed lowly. "Why should it bother me? I'm dead, aren't I?"

"Why should what bother you?" she asked, feeling an unpleasant sinking sensation in her stomach as Snape reached out and grabbed a newspaper off of the table.

"Only just arrived a few minutes before you did," he said vehemently. Opening it, Hermione saw it was the Sunday _Evening Prophet_. The front page seemed almost entirely devoted to one large story.

**Cover-up at Hogwarts: the truth behind the death of Prof. Severus Snape **

_Story by: Special Correspondent Rita Skeeter_

The sinking feeling in her gut deepening quickly, Hermione read hurriedly but thoroughly. The story gave a very nasty picture of Dumbledore as a headmaster, more concerned about his school's reputation than the well-being of his students. His old age was causing short-sightedness, enabling him to maintain the innocence of a professor who had clearly been in Voldemort's pocket the entire time he was teaching. The story did not allow for the remotest possibility that Snape had been killed for being _disloyal_ to Voldemort. Perhaps that was due to the detail with which it described Snape's horrid abuses of his students (or student, Hermione supposed), though it named no one specifically, for which Hermione was grateful. She supposed the wizarding world have similar laws about revealing names of victims in such situations as the muggle world. Dumbledore's position was questioned several times throughout the story, and Hermione understood as she finished reading and folded up the paper.

"By leaking the 'true' story as the Death Eaters know it, they hope to have Professor Dumbledore removed from the school," she surmised.

"As well as to draw away any potential support against the Dark Lord," Snape said darkly. "Without Dumbledore, there would be no strong, unified front. And if people who are on the fence start doubting his mental faculties…well, we'd have to start relying on Potter to persuade others to defy the Dark Lord." Hermione ignored the derision in his voice.

"At least she didn't use the bloody 'quick-quotes quill'," she murmured to herself.

"What?" Snape asked sharply, clearly not seeing the relevance, nor the humor.

"Eh, I blackmailed Rita Skeeter two years ago," she said absently, thinking very hard. "She's an unregistered animagus. Said I'd spill if she kept writing horrid lies for stories with that bloody quill of hers."

Snape just stared at her incredulously, mouth moving, but no sound emerging.

"So what happens?" Hermione exploded, startling him. "They can't take Dumbledore from Hogwarts, _surely_ students' parents realize what would happen then."

"He doesn't need Dumbledore removed from Hogwarts, not yet," Snape told her. She looked up questioningly. "He needs another total split between the Ministry and Dumbledore. It'll put the Ministry of Magic directly into the Dark Lord's pocket, and Hogwarts will follow."

"We're only just recovering from the last of those," Hermione exclaimed angrily. "Would they be so stupid…" she paused to consider. "Never mind. Of course they would."

"I think our meeting tonight suddenly became a _lot_ more complicated."

SCENESCENESCENESCENESCENESCENE

An uproar of voices could be heard from the upper floors of Grimmauld Place as Harry and Ron were unpacking their trunks. Shooting each other a furtive glance, they hastily made their way to the hallway and the stairs to see what was going on. Down another floor, they ran into Ginny who gave them a questioning look.

"What's going on?" Ginny wondered. "I thought no one was supposed to be here until nine."

"Do you think something's happened?" Ron worried. Harry didn't answer, but led the three of them the rest of the way down into the sitting room, which seemed to have been magically expanded to hold several more people than normal.

Remus Lupin was standing in the middle of a large crowd of people who all appeared to be in varying levels of confusion, anger, and distress. Looking around for a friendly face, they spotted Fred and George and went over to them.

"What's happened?" Ron asked.

"Blimey!" Fred exclaimed upon seeing them. "When did you lot get here?"

"About eight. Dumbledore thought we ought to come home early, dissuade any attacks against the train next weekend. What's going on?" Harry repeated Ron's query.

George thrust a newspaper into Harry's hand. "Rita Skeeter," he said darkly. "She's at it again."

Harry laid the paper out flat on a table and the three bent over to read it. Once they had the general gist, Ginny turned back to Fred and George, frowning. "How, in Merlin's name, did she come up with something like that?"

"Death Eaters, I reckon," Fred shrugged. "Trying to use his death to the most advantage," Harry and Ron looked quickly at each other, forgetting that the other three still thought that Snape was dead. "Destabilizing the order of the wizarding world and whatnot, make people question Dumbledore." He paused. "There's always the other possibility though," he sounded reluctant.

"What do you mean?" Ginny looked confused.

Fred and George exchanged a glance. "It could always be…ya know…true."

Ron opened his mouth to speak and Harry quickly stepped on his foot. "We don't know anything, _remember?_" Harry muttered.

Before anyone could question their behavior, they were all distracted by the door opening. In swept Dumbledore, long, silver hair and beard shining in the pale light of the room. He looked around the faces before him and smiled faintly.

"My apologies, friends," he said gravely. "There was a bit of a sudden uproar at the school, it required my attention." He stopped and checked the time. "Ah, but you're all early. Of course." He looked wearier than Harry could remember seeing him in a long time. "Well, it's probably for the better that I have so many of you here now, so I can clear a couple of things up before our guests of honor arrive." He looked around the room. "Let me first state with the utmost certainty and authority that the story which has us all in such a tizzy is completely fictional."

Harry, Ron, and Remus knew the complete and true story behind the events of the past year regarding Snape. Everyone else eyed Dumbledore with varying levels of acceptance, doubt, and incredulity.

"Professor," George Weasley began slowly and apologetically, "I don't mean to question your judgment by any means, we all know that you had your reasons for trusting Professor Snape but…well, the rest of us are kind of starting to wonder where Skeeter could have possibly come up with a story like this, if it's not based in an ounce of fact."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Truth be told," he said, "Ms. Skeeter's story is based in what her _source_ believes to be fact. It is not that poor woman's fault that her sources are too far down the chain to actually get the story straight."

"And your sources come from further up the chain, I take it?" George asked.

"Well, I do try to do the thing properly," Harry thought that Dumbledore looked like he was thoroughly enjoying himself now. There was a smatter of light laughter. "I have it, of course, on the authority of the student in question that Severus is falsely accused."

"Skeeter's source actually gave a student's name? Who was it?"

"That would be me." Everyone turned to the doorway and, had the situation not been so serious, Harry would have found the reactions quite amusing.

Hermione stood there, looking from person to person as though daring them to say anything further on the matter. Snape stood behind her, eyes sweeping the room, looking as sour as usual. Several people gave small gasps of surprise. Fred, George, and Ginny had gone completely white. Others gave them knowing smiles of encouragement.

"Well," Dumbledore clapped his hands together, "my second order of business was, of course, to assure you all that Severus was in fact still alive, and that he and Miss Granger would be arriving shortly. Sort of a moot point now though, I suppose…"

Silence reigned for about two seconds, and then everyone began speaking at once. It took several minutes for Dumbledore to regain order.

"I do apologize again, most sincerely," he assured them all. "But once you've heard the full story, you will understand the need for absolute secrecy on this matter for the past several weeks. We could not risk even the slightest rumor reaching Voldemort's ranks that Severus still lived. Those of you who were not present the night of the incident, unfortunately, had to be left in the dark." The silence throughout the room seemed indicative of everyone's relative acceptance of this announcement. "Now that we're all here and can hear the complete story by those directly involved," he indicated Snape and Hermione, "we can decide our next course of action. Severus?" He motioned for everyone to take a seat. Hermione sat in the chair nearest of the door of the room, and Snape took the seat beside her and began speaking.

"The events which precede my 'death' at the Dark Lord's hands are several and complex," he began in his quiet, silky voice that so commanded attention from those in earshot. "And in fact, the earliest of these events was more than a year ago, when the idea was proposed to attempt to create a potion which would counteract the _avada kedavra_ curse." He was silent for a few seconds, gathering his thoughts. "I began work on the first stage of this immediately upon the end of term last year. I met with varying success for the next month or two until, finally, I received help from another source, one who was more knowledgeable than I on time travel, which turned out to be the final barrier in creating the potion which would perform exactly _as_ the curse, giving us a base to start a counter potion. This source was, of course, Miss Granger, who conducted undoubtedly dangerous and illicit experiments with potions and time turners her third year, when she piled on too many bloody classes to actually have time to take them all."

Hermione grinned inwardly.

"Miss Granger was targeted to be kidnapped, used as bait to lure Mr. Potter to the Dark Lord. An overexcited death eater let slip the plan to me, a plan which was supposed to be hidden from me to give me deniability to Dumbledore and the Order. I arrived just in time, disapparated with Miss Granger, returned, and _obliviated_ the death eater who was at her house, as well as the one who told me of the plan in the first place. For the remainder of the summer, Miss Granger remained in my house while her parents were in hiding. The _fidelius_ charm was cast, and none but those absolutely necessary were any the wiser.

Here Snape paused.

"The Dark Lord," he began slowly, "was displeased with my inability to discover where Dumbledore hid her. In truth, I believe he suspected I had a hand in preventing the kidnapping, but was never sure enough to act on it. After that, however, he was eager to test me, to see how far I'd go in my service to him, and against the Order and Dumbledore. This is where the rumors which have made it now to the _Prophet_ originate. For I foolishly gave the Dark Lord an opportunity to test me as he wished. Yes, I made a mistake. I lost just one image accidentally to the Dark Lord when he was searching my mind, but it was precisely the sort of image he wanted, and precisely the sort I did not want him to have, therefore. In an effort to explain it, the story was concocted, and I will not repeat it, I daresay you've all had quite enough via that Skeeter woman.

"This was in October, on Halloween. Upon returning to the castle, I immediately came to Dumbledore, and we met with Miss Granger, and worked out the lie we would present to Lucius Malfoy when he was sent to ensure I was fulfilling my duties of undermining Dumbledore in his own castle.

"This had some benefits though," he added. "Miss Granger and I were able to resume work on the potion. After some time, we believed we discovered the final ingredient necessary to counteract the curse. All that was left was to determine how much and how concentrated we needed it. But then something else completely unexpected happened: Minerva found Draco Malfoy attempting to send a letter in the dead of night. Suspecting him to be contacting death eaters, she brought him to me so I could discern the nature of his correspondence. We couldn't have been more wrong. He was writing to tell Dumbledore about my abuse of my position as a professor, and declare himself against the Dark Lord."

This brought some rumbling from those who had not already heard it from Dumbledore months earlier. Dumbledore smiled and spoke up.

"Draco Malfoy has my utmost confidence. He has proven himself several times over."

"For whatever it's worth," Hermione added, "I would trust him with my life. Already have, come to that."

Snape continued. "We began teaching both Draco and Miss Granger apparition and occlumency. Meanwhile, we got our potion in its final untested form. And then, of course, Potter and Weasley," he sneered slightly in their direction, "decided that a day-trip to Hogsmeade was what they needed to make their lives complete."

Ron and Harry had the good grace to look guiltily bashful.

Dumbledore took over the narrative. "Many of you are vaguely aware of the events from there. Severus, Draco, and Hermione arranged a plan to place her in the ritual where Harry and Ron would be killed. Highly dangerous, yes, but you can not deny it was highly successful," his eyes twinkled as he regarded Hermione. "Draco delivered her to Lucius, Lucius to Voldemort. For some ten days, they sat and waited for the night of the moon ritual."

"I was tasked with smuggling in some of the potion, though it had yet to be tested on a human subject," Snape picked up. "The night of the ritual, I succeeded in this, and also in providing the location of my house to Potter and Weasley."

Hermione spoke up again. "As we stood waiting for the moment, it was pretty much as simple as me grabbing Ron and Harry and apparating," she shrugged. Harry and Ron noticed how they left out the part about Draco, and Voldemort trying to turn Hermione to his side right at the end. "Moon rituals can not be performed around overarching types of magic, like protective wards and anti-apparition barriers. Harry and Ron could not yet apparate. Due to my occlumency lessons, no one knew that I could. It worked quite well."

"I was, of course, the subject of much of the Dark Lord's displeasure at the turn of events," Snape broke in. "If Miss Granger knew how to apparate, she obviously knew occlumency too if she were able to hide that fact from me. Deeming me to be of no use to him any longer since I clearly did not hold the full trust of the Order or of Dumbledore, he chose to dispose of me, leaving Draco to bring me back to the castle. And he nearly succeeded."

"But the potion worked?" McGonagall asked breathlessly. "You survived the killing curse?"

"Barely. I was weaker and more helpless than ever before in my life. Draco returned me to my home, where several people were still attending Potter, Weasley, and Granger."

"And when I woke up and came to understand what happened, I was able to roughly correct the phoenix tear dose and add it into a strengthening solution," Hermione tried not to sound too pleased with herself.

"I made a shockingly fast recovery after that," Snape inclined his head towards Hermione.

"And so here we are," Dumbledore finished, "at the end of another school year, and none the closer to defeating Voldemort." He paused to consider. "Perhaps I should not say 'none the closer.' It is hardly as though I do nothing more than watch over unruly students all of my day. That will be, however, as prophecy predicted, a matter between myself and Harry predominantly. We have now though, a vast weapon which will soon be at our disposal. The one curse which could not be blocked, the curse most responsible for the deaths of Order members, can now be stopped. By the end of the summer, Severus and Miss Granger should have brewed enough of it to supply a large quantity each and every one of you. Of course, we can not hope to keep it long a secret from Voldemort if it is widely used, but a level of mystery will surround it for some time, I daresay."

There was another long break, during which he seemed to be choosing his words carefully.

"A matter which I also wished to bring to your attention is the involvement of Mr. Draco Malfoy. I do not know if he would come- but I would like to extend to him the invitation to join us, and have this house available to him as a haven if ever he needs it. If there are no objections, I will speak with him at the next available opportunity."

There was silence while Dumbledore looked around the room. After a long moment, he nodded.

"Very well. Minerva, Hagrid, and I must return to Hogwarts shortly. My last word to you all will be to stress the importance of secrecy regarding Severus. In time, his survival _will_ be made gradually known in an effort to destabilize Voldemort's followers; however, in the meantime, it is important to keep the Ministry from asking any more questions than they already are and will after tonight." His eyes swept the room one last time, impressing the seriousness of the matter on them all. "A good night to you all."

And he was gone, McGonagall trailing in his wake.

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**A/N: Well that took longer than I was hoping. Moved back to school last weekend, classes and whatnot- blagh. **

**Thanks for the feedback from those of you who have commented. :-) **

**Until next time,**

**Cheers!**


	7. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Still the same. **

**Chapter 6**

Hermione's life fell into a usual routine, which was just the way she liked it. She woke up early and took her coffee or tea downstairs. Occasionally, Snape joined her, in which case they would both have toast or biscuits and enjoy companionable silence while Snape read the _Daily Prophet_ (forwarded to him from Grimmauld Place, ever since his home had become inaccessible to owls at all).

After getting ready in the morning, Hermione and Snape would meet down in the lab where, when necessary, they would work on the anti-_avada kedavra_ potion. When that was not in need of attendance, he would observe her brewing techniques and ability to follow precise instructions from both the recipes and himself. His complaints were few- the occasional slight discrepancy in the size of ingredients which were to be chopped with precision, holding a stirring rod at an inappropriate angle, that sort of thing.

They would break for lunch together and then resume work- on potions if necessary, but sometimes he would test her on occlumency, insisting that constant practice was essential to keeping ones mind secure and private.

In the evenings, Hermione would go to Grimmauld Place around five for dinner with the Weasleys and anyone else who might be around- usually Remus, oftentimes Tonks (Hermione wondered about those two), and others popped in and out. After dinner, she would stay and spend an hour or two with Ron and Ginny, and sometimes Fred and George when they were around. They would take and laugh, and usually try to steer away from the serious things which were actually on everyone's minds. Sometimes they would ask about her work with Snape, but mostly seemed amazed that she actually could work civilly with him for so long.

One particular morning in late early July, Hermione found Snape waiting for her with a piece of parchment in one hand.

"This, Miss Granger, is a potion I always give on the first day to my seventh year N.E.W.T. classes. Begin."

A surprisingly short introduction, Hermione spent longer than usual perusing the potion recipe itself. It did not say what it was for, she supposed she would have to figure that out at the end; however, it did not look greatly complicated, and she began to wonder why exactly this was the starting potion in an advanced class. Instantly suspicious, she re-read the list of ingredients more carefully, doing her best to remember the properties of each as she went along- and then she spotted it: beetle eyes, mandrake root, and unicorn tail. Turning to Snape, she smirked.

"Do you always try to blow up your N.E.W.T. level students on the first day?" she asked.

"Just separating the true potion artists from the chemistry students."

"And just how many end up being 'true potion artists'?"

He gave her a wry look. "You're the first."

"Flattered."

"In all seriousness though- a potions master must be constantly aware of what is around him or her; some potions can interact just by being in cauldrons which are too close together. Some potions have one, small ingredient which reacts poorly with copper and pewter and must be prepared in a gold cauldron. I assume you know why potions labs tend to be underground?"

"Better climate control," Hermione supplied the answer quickly.

"Precisely. Some potions are immensely sensitive to the smallest changes in heat from step to step, and misreading the instructions and turning the heat up or down too soon or too late can be devastating to the potion, and possibly to its brewer. This potion here," he indicated the recipe on the table, "is almost that of a simple pain reliever. In my first year as a professor at Hogwarts, a student mistook the ingredient which should read unicorn horn and grabbed the tail instead. Had that individual been more conscious of what he had already placed in his cauldron and how different ingredients will interact, he would have recognized his mistake before sending half of the class to the hospital wing."

He paused for a moment.

"The biggest problem with brewing potions in any setting is failure to accurately read instructions. Sometimes you will be hurried and double-checking yourself will be near-impossible. This is why it is hugely important to first read a potion through entirely- read once for comprehension, again for ingredients, and a third time for brewing. You seem to already have developed that habit, at least for potions with which you are not familiar, and this is a very good habit to be in."

Hermione inclined her head in appreciation of his compliment. Snape chose his next words carefully.

"Potter is leaving his relatives for the last time today- they are leaving tomorrow with Dedalus Diggle, among others, for a secret location until the war is over. If you are going to send your parents into hiding, this would be the ideal time to do it."

Hermione bit her lip. She knew she would have to do it; she had been to see her parents the week before, and it had been one of the most difficult things of her life seeing them so scared and trapped, and almost totally separated from the world that was such a threat to them. The thought of never seeing or hearing from them again for months or years possibly was almost too much to handle. She just hoped that they could forgive her one day.

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"I- I'm not sure I understand, sweetie," Mrs. Granger's voice was shaking as she looked back and forth from Hermione to Tonks. Tonks had remained a frequent companion to the Grangers, since being brought up by a muggleborn father made it much easier for her to relate to them. She was also in charge of relocating them with new names.

"Just until the war is over," Hermione tried to sound more confident and cheerful than she felt. "It's gotten too dangerous already for you to remain anywhere near here."

"How's it gotten more dangerous?" Mr. Granger sounded alarmed and a little angry. "Hermione, what have you gotten yourself into?"

Hermione sighed. She knew it would go like this. They just couldn't understand the vendetta against Harry, and she sure as hell wasn't going to try to explain the series of events which had led to the vendetta against herself.

"The bad side is getting stronger, and we've got to defeat them soon," she said in a soothing voice, "and, as a friend of Harry's, it's likely that they would use you to get to me. Now I'm perfectly capable of protecting myself- I've been training a lot this last year to do so," she assured them, "but if they get hold of the two of you, I'd do whatever they wanted, and then Harry would turn himself in to save me, and in the end we'd all die." Okay, so that was a little blunt, but that's what they needed right now.

"How- how long?" Mrs. Granger whispered. "And can't you just come with us?"

"A matter of months, maybe a year," Hermione couldn't bring herself to meet her eye though. Honestly, she had no real clue. "Events are set in motion already and soon there will be a snowballing effect. The tide is turning, and what once was a seemingly hopeless battle will be won. But I need to be a part of it."

In the end there were many tears and hugs, and sorrowful farewells, but Hermione reminded herself again and again that this was for the best- she would never see her parents again if it meant keeping them safe from Voldemort and the death eaters.

She watched their car leave from the porch of the house. It wasn't until it was out of site that she turned and re-entered the house, movements stiff and surreal. She looked around the front room until she found what she needed- a framed picture of her and her parents, one of several decorations they had been forced to leave behind. Holding it to her chest, she laid down on the sofa and curled up into a small ball, crying silently.

She didn't know how long she stayed like that, though she was positive it couldn't be more than a half an hour or so. She did, however, become vaguely aware of a presence next to her, but before she could move to see who it was, she was gathered up into someone's arms and with the brief but intense pulling sensation of apparition, she found herself back in her own room at Prince Manor.

After laying her down in her bed, a thin, pale hand pulled the picture frame from her grasp and laid it gently down on the bedside table. Hermione rolled over as the weight shifted on the bed and Snape sat down on the edge. He had the awkward look he always carried when he wished to be sympathetic but knew not how. So, instead, he opted for gentle chastisement.

"You should not have stayed so long, that house was almost completely unprotected."

"How did you know?"

"I asked Tonks to send me word when she left the house with your parents. When you still had not returned after twenty minutes, I suspected you were…overwhelmed."

Hermione looked at him and his eyes sought hers, eyes shielded by finely honed occlumency skills.

"Barring ones mind," Snape said softly, "is not always desirable. Sometimes you must let it out, or you will feel the burden ten times as strongly." She made no move to let him in. "I can help," he offered once more.

She wasn't sure when she made the conscious decision to accept, but suddenly she was pouring out emotions- fear for her parents, for Harry and Ron, for herself, for Snape and for Draco; loneliness; anger; failure as a daughter to keep her parents separated from her world; above all, desire- desire for a peaceful life, the end of Voldemort, a normal Hogwarts as she had really only known it for a brief time in her first year.

At some point she was sobbing and at another, his arms were wrapped around her, stiff but comforting as her tears wet the front of his robes. He did not seem to mind though, and continued to hold her as she cried herself to sleep.

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When she next awoke, Snape was no where to be seen, though this surprised Hermione not one bit. She was more than a little mortified that she had actually cried herself silly in front of him, but, she supposed, it was really his own doing for pushing her to let out all of those pent up feelings.

Checking the time and simultaneously noting that she was quite famished, she dragged herself from the bed, figuring dinner was in order. She headed into the bathroom and just shook her head at the mess that had become her hair. Her face was red and tear-stained, but a quick wash took care of that easily.

She found Harmony downstairs, who informed her that Snape had left some time ago. Shrugging, Hermione apparated straight to Grimmauld Place, though it was past the normal time at which she would go over to eat. Normally hustling and bustling with at least a dozen people milling about, especially so close to dinner time, Hermione was surprised to find the front hall empty and quiet. She made her way down the hall towards the kitchen, a little perturbed by the mysterious silence of the house. Gently, she made to open the door, when a shrill voice startled her.

"Hermione, dear, I'm afraid you musn't go in there right now!"

She turned to find Molly Weasley hurrying towards her.

"Oh, Mrs. Weasley!" she exclaimed pleasantly. "I'm sorry I missed dinner, I fell asleep…" she trailed off, as Mrs. Weasley looked a little anxious. "Is everything alright?"

"Fine, fine. Professor Dumbledore has Harry in some sort of secret counsel right now, you see. He's absolutely forbidden anyone else from going in that kitchen," she stopped short though, when Dumbledore's head popped out of the kitchen in question.

"Actually, Molly, do you think I could borrow Miss Granger? Thanks very much," and, eyes twinkling madly as usual, he pulled Hermione into the room and shut the door rather quickly again.

Secret counsel, Hermione realized, was not entirely the truth. Dumbledore and Harry were there, hunched over a pensieve, but so were Ron and, to her surprise, Snape.

"My apologies, Miss Granger," Snape inclined his head towards her. "I did not wish to wake you." Hermione read the veiled concern behind his statement and did her best to reassure him silently.

"It's quite alright," she assured him. "What's going on?"

"To put it quite succinctly, I hope," Dumbledore told her, "I have discovered what is necessary to ensure the death of Voldemort. As I said at our last meeting, this is a matter between myself and Harry. The rest of present company are here at Harry's invitation who, knowing what he now knows on the matter, has decided that you present might or will be helpful in the confidence of that knowledge."

Hermione took a deep breath and slowly walked to the table to join the rest of them.

"I'm in."

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**A/N: I like reviews. 0:-) **

**Forgive me if I keep this aspect too similar to the books. Some things just can not be changed, in my view. Horcruxes is one of them. **

**Until next time,**

**Cheers!**


	8. Author Note AND Chapter 7

**Following A/N was also posted in an updated prologue- it was originally written here though, so it shall remain for those of you who are not new to this story- **

**Semi-important explanatory A/N: So… Here I am, several chapters into this story, and, as I was harshly reminded by a review recently, I had yet to actually define whether or not this would be a HG/SS story. I know I made it abundantly clear on several occasions that Changes in Heart would NOT be romantic, and it wasn't (alternate ending excluded). My several reasons for this were laid out in a couple of chapters of that story. **

**Despite the lack of romance in Changes in Heart, I did find it to be rather popular and was encouraged- perhaps I had found a devoted group of readers who cared more for story than smut (not that there's anything wrong with the occasional smut perusal- heaven knows I'm quite guilty myself). But the point of that story was for me to lay out Hermione's year 6 (I published it prior to DH and wasn't crazy with the way Snape ended up in HBP, haha) as I would have enjoyed it. Obviously not realistically in the sense that it followed Hermione's tale, not Harry's, &c, &c, but I wanted it as realistic as possible for the characters JK Rowling wrote using my plot kernel. This I did, and, I hope, did reasonably well. **

**This story has not gotten off the ground in readership as I might have liked- I was hoping for more of a spillover from Changes in Heart, and that has not happened to a great extent (though a few of you have been faithful). I suspect that, while Changes in Heart was a 3 year ordeal which, once started, several people needed to finish, despite the publication of Deathly Hallows before I finished my story. Now though, it seems like readership of stories centered around Hermione and Snape is based upon the romantic notion- one that is impossible for those keeping to JKs ending. This, I suspect, is why I can not garner much interest in this (by all means, tell me if I'm wrong and it's because my story is just bad- I daresay I may have lost my touch since Changes in Heart, despite my increase in years since then).**

**Writing this story though, I can't keep myself away from it. I want so dearly to make it a romance- have from the very beginning of its prequel, in fact, but swore to hold true. And the more I think about it, the more I can discount the reasons for which it wasn't a romance to begin with- the principal of which was Snape's position as her professor. I know it sounds like a cop-out, but he's not, and that opens up my conscience to write it in. **

**I know some (a small minority, I presume) will be disappointed in MY change in heart- I did have one rather eager reviewer beg me to not make it romantic, that he is too old for her- and I would agree, but something has been nagging at me lately. In one of my classes this semester, I just had to read Austen's Emma. This is going to sound ridiculous, but I like to justify myself in long-winded explanations that won't be read, so off I go. **

**When I first read Pride and Prejudice- nay, when I first saw the (new) movie- I saw Darcy as Snape. Cruel- unpleasant- belief in his own superiority- and severely misunderstood on all those counts. I began to draw this romantic notion to his character, to the entire Harry Potter world as a more old England-type society- largely based on blood ties. And today, when I finished Emma, I completed that train of thought. Mr. Knightley is sixteen years older than Emma (Snape is what? Eighteen, nineteen years older than Hermione?). He has watched her grow and, indeed, helped raised her, helped to mold her into the person which he dared himself to love, despite his age. Is this not, then, the completion of my justification to myself? I daresay it is and that I shall relent. **

**In some ways, I feel as though I am succumbing to popular pressure- but I assure you, that pressure has been part of my own feelings since the first remote indication of his feelings towards her in Changes in Heart- his refusal to succumb to the demands to use a pensieve perhaps? **

**So long story short? You can now consider this a HG/SS. Which isn't to say they'll immediately jump into bed and start having 'lots of sex and babies' (Love Actually, anyone?)… but you can call it an eventual romance. My only regret? I do fear that I shall lose my eligibility for the Snape-Hermione friendship community that this story is a part of. Ah well. **

**Lastly- do not judge an author too harshly on such matters. I have never possessed the ability to plan out a long story too far in advance- I am much the slave to my own passing whims and fancies while writing, that I often end up throwing little innuendoes and whatnot in that I had never intended- I have written myself into a corner from which I have no other escape. But I look forward to that escape. :-) **

**Disclaimer: All JKs…*sigh***

**Chapter 7**

They reemerged from the Pensieve with a collective gasp.

"Dumbledore," Snape looked dazed, "this is the darkest of dark magic. That he could have made seven…" Hermione had never seen him look so small and hopeless, and that scared her more than the actual tale of the horcruxes themselves.

"Do not lose hope just yet, dear Severus," Dumbledore said gravely, "for you have not yet witnessed the extent of my research. These memories, of my own and of Horace Slughorn merely set the foundation for what Voldemort would attempt to achieve. I have traveled far and wide in an effort to discern his mind, and I hope that I already have a head start," his eyes traveled back to Harry, who looked confused. "You, my boy have already destroyed one of the seven horcruxes, I believe."

Everyone else in the room looked terribly confused, but Harry thought he understood. "Riddle's diary," he guessed. Dumbledore nodded.

"The Tom Riddle you encountered from the diary, the one who possessed Ginny Weasley, was not the same precisely as that which currently plots ands schemes against us. Able to coexist as two entirely separate entities, Voldemort had no idea upon regaining his body that he _had_ possessed Ginny Weasley, had no clue that portion of his soul was destroyed until word trickled down to him that the diary was gone. His rage was, undoubtedly, terrible to behold, though none would understand why; the creation of his horcruxes would have been his most guarded secret, for it is the thing which makes him invincible. This, however," Dumbledore pondered aloud, "is a disadvantage which can easily turn to our advantage."

"If even _he_ can't feel it when a portion of his soul is destroyed," Hermione mused, "and doesn't trust his followers enough to guard these artifacts, "then you just might get a head start on destroyed the remaining six before he is any the wiser about what you're doing."

"Precisely," Dumbledore smiled down his crooked nose at her.

"What then _do_ we know about the remaining six?" Snape demanded.

Dumbledore smiled lightly. "A great many things, Severus, not all of which will be for the ears of everyone in this room right now. I will tell you this, however: in some of the memories I will soon show you, Voldemort displays a strong attachment towards personal belongings of the four founders of Hogwarts."

"So…is Gryffindor's sword a horcrux then?" Harry asked wryly.

"Alas that it is not so easy," Dumbledore's eye twinkled. "For few things can actually destroy a horcrux, and one of those things, basilisk venom, is actually blended with the steel of that blade. It would have destroyed itself upon creation." He paused, considering. "It is actually Gryffindor of whom I am skeptical that Voldemort was able to find an heirloom; the only ones known to history are his sword and the Sorting Hat, and I am _quite _sure that the Sorting Hat is unblemished."

He stopped and peered over his half-moon spectacles at them each in turn.

"I have allowed this small gathering to be present because I do not believe in placing all of my eggs in one basket, as the saying goes. Miss Granger, at any rate, may think me foolish to put too much stock into prophecy and seers," his eyes twinkled at her, and she blushed, "but I hold that the final match will be between Harry and Voldemort. Which means that Harry will need much help in getting there. I suspect that I will not always be around to help him out, and when this is true, it will, as always, be the burden of you, Mr. Weasley and you, Miss Granger to provide wisdom and support as you have done in the past." He smiled at them each in turn. "You are true friends, a thing rarer and rarer to find with the passing days. I know that even if I did try to separate you from Harry, it would be almost as hard as getting Severus here to let me throw him a birthday party." Snape looked livid.

"Severus, your presence, as one who perhaps knows more of the mind of Voldemort than anyone else on our side save myself, will be most invaluable," Dumbledore spoke sincerely.

"However much I may know into the Dark Lord's mind," Snape said sardonically, "I can quite assure you that he never spoke of hiding pieces of his soul all over England."

"Be that as it may," Dumbledore returned somberly, "you have a much greater familiarity with the types of spells, protections, and jinxes he likes to employ. You have seen more of his dark magic that anyone else present."

Snape was silent at that.

"We will see no more tonight. Soon I will be departing, alone, in an effort to locate the first of the remaining horcruxes. The rest of you should use your time wisely- research what you can into horcruxes themselves, methods of destruction, common features and curses present around such dark things. Work together, share your findings. You four now hold what must indeed be the best kept secret of our mission." He let a few moments silence impress upon them the seriousness of this charge. "I shall bid you a goodnight then."

"Professor?" Hermione spoke up. "If I may- did you speak to Draco about pursuing a more active role in the Order?" Snape turned and looked at her quickly, but said nothing.

"I did," Dumbledore smiled at her. "He declines the offer for a consistent presence- I do believe he fears making his father and, more importantly perhaps, his aunt Bellatrix suspicious. He has, however, graciously accepted knowledge of the location of headquarters, should he ever have need of it in an emergency."

He left shortly thereafter, taking the pensieve with him. Hermione, hunger much forgotten, sat at the table which it had recently vacated, and was soon joined by the rest. No one seemed too inclined to say much more on the dark topic, though Hermione found she needed to break the silence.

"Well, congratulations, Harry," she stated offhandedly.

"Wh- what for?" He was quite confused.

"You've finally found a topic on which I _haven't_ read thoroughly yet."

Harry and Ron laughed. Even Snape hazarded a slight quirk of his mouth in her direction.

"We do indeed have much research to conduct," he murmured quietly to her. "I myself have not read on such a matter in some years, but I am quite sure I have some material which may be useful…" he seemed to trail off in thought.

"Perhaps we should be on our way then?" she suggested.

"Ah, but Hermione, you slept through dinner," Ron pointed out. Hermione paused halfway out of her chair with a quick glance at Snape.

"I think we're actually going-," she was interrupted by Snape, however, who waved his wand and small plate of sandwiches appeared in front of her.

"Eat," he commanded. Throwing him a wryly inquisitive look, she nonetheless acquiesced, sat back down, and enjoyed a few more minutes' pleasant conversation with Harry and Ron while she had some food.

It was fairly late when Hermione finally departed with Snape. He didn't speak much as they exited to the front porch of the hidden house and apparated together back to his.

"So…," Hermione broke the silence, "when is it?"

"I…pardon?" Snape looked positively befuddled.

"Your birthday?"

Snape stared daggers. "I believe we have some legitimate work to get started on," he stated plainly and dangerously, heading for the stairs.

"It's just, I don't think Professor Dumbledore wouldn't have mentioned it if it wasn't coming up soon is all," she said nonchalantly, "and not having a birthday party- I mean, if you haven't had one since working at Hogwarts, when _is _the last time you had a birthday party?"

Snape faltered at the bottom stair, took one more step, and stopped again. He turned to face her, and Hermione was a little alarmed at the look in his eyes. It was part deadly anger, part devastating sadness.

"My birthday," he whispered with a forced and deadly calm, "is next week- the fourteenth. The last time I celebrated it was when I turned fifteen. Before I turned sixteen, I had alienated my only friend and person for whom I cared."

And he glided quickly up the rest of the way, leaving Hermione standing there feeling positively wretched and stupid.

She followed a few minutes later after debating her chances of meeting a painful death. Deciding them to be slightly in her favor, she ascended to the library, assuming he still planned to get a head start on horcrux research before sleeping.

He was sitting in a chair facing away from her as she approached slowly and quietly. As she neared the chair though, he called out to her.

"I believe what you are looking for may be found up there," he gestured at the uppermost level of the library, the one she had been previously forbidden from entering. "Possibly under the heading of 'magic so dark that even Hermione Granger has never sought to read on it.'" His voice dripped with cruelty and sarcasm and Hermione winced.

"Professor?" She was now standing almost in front of him. He gave her a severely patronizing look as he glanced up from his book.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"I'm really very sorry," she murmured quietly.

"It is of no consequence." Hermione did not hazard a guess as to which he referred- her original intrusion on his privacy or her apology now.

"Nonetheless, I am," she said softly, "and…if I may…" Snape looked up at her incredulously. "Just earlier today, you warned me about bottling up emotions too long. And it was very helpful, letting all of that out. I just thought," she paused, feeling foolish and embarrassed, "if you needed…I could…help."

Snape continued to regard her, but his gaze seemed to soften.

"I…appreciate…the sentiment," he told her slowly. "Not today though. I am a man too long used to holding my feelings close to my chest. Perhaps one day…" he looked wistful as he spoke. "No matter. Your apology is accepted."

Feeling slightly better, Hermione turned away and headed for the indicated section of books. Still…she felt as though something more than what she thought was weighing on Snape's mind. This was Snape though. Undoubtedly, there were two decades worth of secrets and hidden emotions jumbled up in his head. No wonder he was always such a snarky bugger.

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The next morning, Hermione woke up a little earlier than usual and headed downstairs, expecting to be the only one up and about. She was mistaken in her expectations however; she heard Snape's voice drifting up the stairs as she descended.

"…tell Miss Granger that I shall return by mid-morning," he was instructing Harmony, who was standing next to a plate of biscuits looking extremely confused.

"Are you going somewhere?" Hermione came around the corner. "It's quite early."

He turned to face her looking slightly harassed and unkempt, and Hermione would not have been surprised to learn that he had not slept the night before. She was a little alarmed at his appearance and he _had_ said that he would be going to bed shortly after she left the library the night before.

"I must speak with Albus," he muttered in her general direction, distracted as he attempted to fasten his cloak. "It can not wait."

"Do you need help with anything?" Hermione frowned and moved to untangle a part of his cloak.

"No." Snape winced at his own rather abrupt reply. "I mean to say, the potion will stay until I am back." Having no reply to that, Hermione stood back as he, having finally managed to dress himself properly, moved to the middle of the room and, with a last lingering look at her, turned and was gone.

Hermione was worried. Had Snape learned something about the horcruxes, something crucial and deadly? Had something else happened, something at Grimmauld Place, that he was keeping from her?

She had no idea, and she hated not knowing.

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**A/N: Dumdumdum. Apologies for the length of the note preceding the chapter. Hope you read it though, if you've read the prequel. :-) **

**I like reviews… *wink wink* **

**Until next chapter,**

**Cheers!**


	9. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: Same as always!**

**Chapter 8**

If Hermione thought she would learn anything worthwhile upon Snape's return, she was sorely mistaken.

He was silent and thoughtful, but seemed less than willing to share with her what he was thinking. Periodically, as they worked on the Wolfsbane and killing curse potions, their eyes would meet accidentally; in which case, she would detect an odd flicker in his gaze before he turned it quickly back to whatever he was doing.

In fact, his adamant silence was getting to her so much that she was not as bothered as she would ordinarily been when he announced, as they were ready to break for the afternoon, that he would be going on his quest to acquire more phoenix tears soon. She merely nodded an acknowledgement that she heard him and understood.

"You will stay and complete this month's Wolfsbane for Lupin," he told her offhandedly. "The last batch of the other potion will be complete in two days; in that time, we will start a new one and, by the time I return, it should be nearing the stage during which we can add the phoenix tears which I will presumably gather during my travels. Research into the horcrux matter is secondary."

"How long will you be gone?"

"Five days at the most," he pondered. "I have several places I need to go and, by necessity of secrecy, they are scattered around the world."

She paused, confused. "How are you traveling then? Couldn't you just go to each one and then return home and go somewhere else the next day…?"

"Unfortunately, the Ministry keeps a closer eye on international apparition than domestic- they need to be aware of some sudden, strange influx of foreign wizards, especially around times such as the Quidditch World Cup, for instance. If I keep bouncing back and forth through Britain continually, it _will_ draw attention." Hermione didn't even want to ask how on earth they could track things like that. Border protections, she supposed, around individual countries. "Therefore, it is much more sensible that I do all of my work at once, and that will take several days."

And so it was that two days later, armed with several doses of Polyjuice potion, Snape said a few parting farewells to Hermione. He handed her a list of information.

"If anything arises and you have need of me immediately, I can be found at the respective place on the respective date. Do be conscious of time differences. A corresponding name accompanies each place, you will see," she looked and, indeed, it was a chart of dates, names, and places over the next five days. "A patronus is acceptable for non-essential information. For things of a greater need of secrecy, it would be more advisable to send someone personally." He observed her carefully. "I assume I do not need to tell you not to step foot out of this house or Grimmauld Place?" She shook her head. "Then I have just to say this: be mindful of your brewing and stay out of trouble."

"Goodbye and good luck," she watched him prepare to apparate. "And please, sir…do be careful." He looked down into her eyes, behind which swam a sea of worry.

"I will…Hermione."

And with a POP, he was gone.

Hermione spent the better part of that day working on potions. She put the finishing touches on the Wolfsbane potion and then stored it properly so that Remus could come retrieve it starting the next night. Once that was completed, however, there was a tricky stage of the other potion to be attended to, and she was very meticulous in following the instructions which had been more organized by Snape with the final completion of the potion following the near-fatal attack on himself.

Per her usual routine, she apparated to Grimmauld Place for dinner that evening and, after everyone had eaten, Harry, Ron, and Hermione snuck upstairs to talk about the horcruxes. Hermione cast several silencing and locking spells on the room to ensure that no one was able to walk in and surprise them, or overhear their conversation.

"Ron and I have been staying up late at night pouring through some books that Professor Dumbledore left us," Harry was telling her. "It's hard though- there are always so many people around, we can just never be quite sure that all the others have gone to bed."

"And Ginny's bored out of her mind," Ron quipped, "and she knows that we're up to something, but she also knows that it's Dumbledore's doing, so she can't say anything. It's driving her barmy, I'm pretty sure."

Hermione frowned. "Your mother can't be too pleased that Professor Dumbledore's got you working on something secret under her very nose. She's rather protective."

Ron shrugged uncomfortably. "Much as she hates to admit it, she knows she can't protect us all forever. And having no say over Harry and whatnot, she can't tell Dumbledore to leave him be while he's still in school, and she knows Harry will tell me and you anything anyway…she's pretty grumpy a lot these days, actually," he looked pensive, "bet that's why."

"So…have you had much luck?" Harry seemed reluctant to reveal how little success him and Ron had been having.

"A little. Mostly the same stuff repeated in several books, and it's all very vague: things that will destroy a horcrux, what they are, infamous wizards who have made them- though, of course, You-Know-Who is not on that list."

Hermione was prevented from any further speculation by a light tap on the door. Before any of them could respond to it though, the door opened and Professor Dumbledore stuck his head inside the room. Hermione just grinned wryly at the facility with which he had crossed through her protective spells.

"Good evening," he said pleasantly. "I was wondering if anyone would like to join me for a cup of tea down in the kitchen." Understanding this to mean the divulgence of more information on the matter which they had just been discussing, the three eagerly agreed, and followed him downstairs.

When they got there, the events took a slightly different turn than they had expected. With a clang, Dumbledore dropped a large, heavy ring with a dark stone center on the table next to the pensieve which already sat there. The stone was cracked down the middle.

"Sir? Is this…?" Harry did not need to finish the question.

"Yes, Harry, it _was_ a horcrux. Destroyed."

"Blimey," Ron was awed. "How did you…?"

"Pierced through with the sword of Godric Gryffindor."

"So that's two down…of seven," Hermione surmised. "But, sir…_do_ you know what the other five are?"

"I have very strong inclinations on three of the five- the other two, not as strong. But I have my suspicions. We shall learn more about one of them tonight, and I hope to seek it out by the end of the summer."

And with a wave of his wand, memories in the pensieve began to swirl. The four present leaned forward and disappeared into the mist. They saw the entire scene at Gaunt's shack and Hermione noted the ring on Gaunt's hand was that which Dumbledore had just deposited on the table. She felt great indignation on the daughter's part and nearly spluttered in outrage as they finished their viewing.

"But…how on earth could he…_really!_"

"Yes, Miss Granger, Marvolo Gaunt was a cruel, abusive man and parent who went to Azkaban for his shortcomings."

"Marvolo?" Harry asked. "Wait…that girl…Merope…that's Voldemort's mother?" His expression suddenly changed as the full truth dawned on him. "And the man in the carriage. Tom. That was his father, Tom Riddle."

"But how did she-," Ron was cut off by an urgent knock on the door.

"Enter," Dumbledore called pleasantly, and Hermione noted that the ring had already disappeared from the table as Kingsley came in. "Ah! How are you this evening, Kingsley?" They all took in Kingsley's worried expression. "Trouble at the Ministry?" Dumbledore became serious.

"We're…not sure," he responded slowly. "There's just been an announcement that Minister Yestin is resigning first thing in the morning."

Dumbledore frowned. "Did this announcement say why?"

"No…personal reasons, no specifics."

"But you suspect foul play?"

"It's…hard to say," Kingsley answered slowly. "Yestin has surely been over tasked these last few months as Voldemort has grown stronger, but he has not shown signs of going the route of Fudge, whose only purpose was to cover everything up and pretend it wasn't happening. Tonks and I are concerned that it is a- how shall we say- _forced_ retirement."

"Who will succeed him?" Harry asked.

"The Deputy Minister is a man named Aldous Levinson. He is an unremarkable fellow, but he and Yestin have known each other since Hogwarts. I find it hard to suspect him of blackmailing the Minister."

Dumbledore was silent for a long moment. Finally he spoke. "Let us do our best to remain on our guards these next few days," he told them all. "Perhaps more light shall be shed on this news when it breaks in tomorrow's _Daily Prophet_."

"Surely you don't trust what they write about anything," Kingsley looked bemused.

"Ah, but the trick is to read what they _don't_ write," Dumbledore replied knowingly. "Thank you, Kingsley. This could be dire news indeed if Voldemort is finding ways already to infiltrate the Ministry ranks so highly."

Kingsley bowed his head in departing. "My apologies for interrupting," he shot a bemused glance around at the four of them and the pensieve. "I shall be in touch tomorrow if anything else arises."

When he was gone and the door firmly shut once more, Dumbledore sat down, a look of deep concentration on his face.

"Sir?"

He looked up and smiled wearily. "My apologies. My old mind is getting ahead of itself."

"Would you like to leave off here for the night, Professor," Hermione offered.

"Not quite," Dumbledore was suddenly alert and back on his feet. "For there was more to that memory than an old, destroyed ring. We saw another probable horcrux, can one of you pick it out?"

"Slytherin's necklace," Hermione offered.

"Quite right. Tom Riddle disappeared after Hogwarts, tracking down old pieces of his own history, as well as those of the founders. Now the ring was located in that same old house you have just seen. Buried, highly cursed, but accessible. There was no trace of the locket, which is not surprising. He would not want to risk another piece of his soul if the first was found." He paused, and chose his words carefully. "Now, I believe I am on the brink of finding the next hiding location- it is far and remote, very dangerous. This, however, is the only other horcrux which I believe to be extensively hidden. Based upon the timeline of events, I suspect he was forced to be more hasty with the other four." Here, his gaze lingered over Harry, but Hermione was the only one who noticed. "Consequently, it will be harder to destroy the other four unnoticed."

"Sir…" Harry seemed hesitant to speak up. "Might I go with you? When you go to find it?"

Dumbledore smiled gently. "Sadly, you are not of age until the end of the month, and I daresay it shall not take me so long to discover its whereabouts."

"Oh."

"Do not despair. There shall be plenty of opportunity for the three of you to be in quite enough danger by the end of this war, I daresay," he was smiling, but Hermione sensed a cautioning note beneath his laughing tone.

"You know, sir," Ron said, "I turned seventeen back in March…"

"As much as I appreciate the offer, Mr. Weasley, I fear your mother would simply murder me on the spot for putting you in such a situation." Ron grinned in acknowledgement. "Now…I need a few words with Miss Granger, so off to bed you two go!" Harry and Ron looked startled at the sudden dismissal, but quickly obliged.

"Goodnight, Hermione, Professor," Harry offered, then disappeared around the door behind Ron.

"Sir?" Hermione felt suddenly scrutinized and examined, alone with Dumbledore.

He observed her carefully for a few moments. "You will not offer your assistance in my quest as Harry and Ron have done?" His eyes sparkled.

"I suspect, sir, that it would be turned down," she replied dryly. "You know I am willing to do anything it takes when it comes to helping Harry though."

"I do indeed," Dumbledore acknowledged. "And I might indeed consider it were it not for the same reasons I gave to Mr. Weasley."

"Ah, but sir, my parents are in the muggle world, they'd need never know," she teased.

"It was not your parents of whom I spoke," he said gently. "I suspect Severus would never forgive me for putting you at such risk in his stead."

Hermione paused, recognizing the implication of his words. "Then you mean to take Professor Snape with you?"

"It is the…logical choice," he told her in a tone that was both kind and left no room for argument. "He is unmatched in knowledge of both Voldemort and the dark arts when it comes to the Order. In truth, I could have used his skill when I sought the ring." Hermione nodded. "What I need to ask you though- and this is indeed a difficult question for me- but, should something go awry, are you able to continue Severus's work?"

Hermione's breath caught in her throat. "You expect him to not return?" she asked incredulous.

"Of course not," his tone was harsher than Hermione had ever heard him use with a student, and she felt foolish. "One must prepare for contingencies, however unlikely they may be."

"And how unlikely is this one?" she knew it was an impertinent question, but she figured they were past the point of tiptoeing around the topic.

Dumbledore sighed. "I can not be sure, of course, without having seen the location of the horcrux. But Severus is a noble man, still on a quest for redemption, failing to recognize that he has earned it several times over." Hermione was silent as she considered that. "I have no doubt that, if he saw the opportunity, he would attempt to lay down his life if it meant saving mine."

"I understand," the words were thick in Hermione's mouth. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Just your best to assure Severus that he has something to come back to and live for."

SCENESCENESCENESCENESCENE

**A/N: I actually don't have much to say. So yeah, thanks for reviews lately- I appreciate those of you who are supportive in my change of direction (well, not direction, really…just that particular element will change). Do give me some feedback. :-)**

**Until next time,**

**Cheers!**


	10. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: Just the little plot kernels are mine… :-) Along with any made up characters. **

**Chapter 9**

Hermione had a difficult time sleeping that night. Dumbledore's words bothered her immensely, and she couldn't help but replay the conversation over and over again in her mind. _Would_ Snape throw his life away rashly? Was it possible that, having lost his place with Voldemort, he saw little remaining purpose in life and sought a noble departure from this world? She found that hard to believe, but then it occurred to her that she had a very different relationship with Snape than most. He did not strike _her_ as the type who wallowed away in regret, but then again, he'd outright told her that he was a different, more communicative person around her than any other but Dumbledore. And he'd been in such an odd mood lately, after he'd run off a couple of mornings ago to go speak with Dumbledore.

It was in this same brooding mood that Remus found her down in the potions lab the next morning.

"Ah! Here for your potion?" Hermione smiled at him and then faltered, noting his grim expression. "Is everything okay?"

"We'll see," he said darkly. "Albus needs to see you as soon as possible," he told her, accepting the goblet and downing it, barely grimacing any more than he was already.

"Al- alright," Hermione stammered, instantly worried about the usual things- her parents, Harry, Ron, Snape, and Draco generally topped the list. "I can be done here in about fifteen minutes. Please, Remus-," she looked imploringly at him, "has someone been hurt?"

His expression softened as he saw the fear in her eyes. "No, I don't think so," he assured her. "It is best if I leave the explaining up to Professor Dumbledore though."

She nodded her acquiescence and went about completing the tasks essential for that morning. Remus waited for her and, upon her announcement that she was finished, offered his arm. She took it and, together, they reappeared on the stoop of Grimmauld Place.

They walked in to the kitchen and found Dumbledore, Harry, Ron, Tonks, and Moody already seated around the table.

"Good morning, Miss Granger," Dumbledore nodded his head to her. "Do have a seat." Hermione and Remus took up two unoccupied chairs at one end of the table.

"What's happened?" Hermione could not loosen the tight feeling of dread in her stomach.

Dumbledore held up a piece of parchment and an unopened letter. "The best explanation will probably be to let you read for yourself," he slid the two down the table and she took up the letter first.

_Professor Dumbledore,_

_The Hogwarts School Governors would like to request an interview regarding the events which took place at your school during the past term (namely those concerning He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Prof. Severus Snape, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ronald Weasley). It has been recently brought to our attention that this has been a severely over-looked matter at both the school and the Ministry, and we would like to remedy this situation._

_Please make yourself available at the Ministry of Magic, Office of School Governors, this Wednesday, July the 16th at one o'clock pm._

It was signed from the twelve governors. There was also a post script at the bottom.

_This office has been unsuccessful in its attempts to reach Mr. Harry Potter and Miss Hermione Granger regarding this matter. Please find, enclosed, letters to be delivered to their respective selves, as we suspect that you are well aware of their whereabouts._

Glancing at the envelope, Hermione saw that it was, in fact, addressed to herself. She opened it and read, almost word-for-word, the same letter. It requested her presence at noon instead of ten o'clock though.

She looked up in confusion. "It's been months and they're interested _now_?" she asked.

"Read between the lines," Dumbledore told her quietly. "Especially note the time discrepancies. I believe if you were to read Harry's letter, you would find it says eleven; Ronald's, eleven-thirty. Think what Kingsley told us last night."

"You think this is You-Know-Who's doing," she surmised.

"I think it likely," he allowed. "Having the three of you appear to discuss this matter and not return would be an easy way, they believe, to get me to turn myself in. Having you all appear at different times makes the job easier for them."

"Turn yourself in!" Hermione exclaimed. "You're not a wanted criminal!" This seemed to loosen some of the tension in the air, and everyone chuckled.

"Perhaps not," he conceded, "but if this is indeed Voldemort's doing, he would like to get me out of the way as quickly and privately as possible."

Before they could discuss the matter any further, Bill Weasley dashed in the room looking frantic. "Professor Dumbledore, sir, we need you at the Burrow. It's urgent." Dumbledore wasted no time.

"I will be back shortly, stay here unless I call for you," he told the room, and left quickly with Bill.

The rest of the room sat in shocked silence. "This day is just getting weirder and weirder," Tonks murmured. "Yestin. This _summons_. Whatever that was all about," she looked worried, and Lupin reached over and grasped her hand in his, squeezing reassuringly.

In just a few minutes, Dumbledore was coming back through the door, and Hermione could not have been more shocked to see who he led. Bill was back, as was Molly- and _Percy_.

"Perce!" Ron jumped out of his chair. "Blimey- you're bleeding!"

Percy waved him off, but looked faint. "It's nothing, it's nothing. Mum fixed it up right away." Hermione hadn't even noticed the bloody gash on his left sleeve. Dumbledore had his wand out and was, quite literally, drawing up chairs for the newcomers.

"Start from the beginning, Percy," Dumbledore commanded.

Percy cleared his throat and, when he spoke, his voice held no trace of the pompousness Hermione remembered so well from Hogwarts. "Yestin is dead," he said bluntly.

Tonks jumped up with an outraged cry. "What! How?" Dumbledore waved an impatient hand at her to sit back down. He was staring intently at Percy.

"His resignation was forced at wand point last night. They left him alive long enough to physically hand over the office to Levinson so the media would see a peaceful transition- and then they killed him. The plan was to make it look like he left for a quiet retirement with his family. I suspect they are now dead as well."

"How did you find out?" Remus breathed.

"It was an accident- I walked into the wrong room, it was supposed to be locked, and this group was talking about what they'd done- what they'd done with the body. I barely escaped," he indicated the wound.

"Then Levinson is with Voldemort?" Harry asked.

Percy hesitated. "I don't think so," he said lowly, "the _Imperius_ curse would be my guess, I caught a brief glimpse of him before I fled and he didn't look wholly _there_, if you understand me. In any case, I didn't know where to go but the Burrow. I knew I had to get in touch with Professor Dumbledore."

Dumbledore regarded him, seemed to size him up. "And what will you do now?" he asked.

"I- I don't know," Percy looked lost. "I obviously can't go back, they'll be looking for me."

"And, given the choice, would you aid our side?"

Percy looked humbled. "If you'll have me," he whispered. "I know what a great prat I've been, especially to my family- and to Harry," he looked at Ron and Harry with beseeching eyes. "I understand if you all would prefer I left." Molly looked on the verge of tears. Harry shrugged, stood up, and reached his hand across the table.

"No hard feelings here," he said simply. Percy looked shocked, but took the proffered hand and shook it. Molly Weasley burst out into tears and hugged her son fiercely.

"Mum! Gerroff!" he exclaimed, gasping for air.

"Molly," Dumbledore addressed her quietly, "perhaps you can go upstairs with your son and find him some suitable living space for the time being- he should not return to the Burrow, he will be highly sought after."

Still crying, but in control of herself, she led Percy out of the kitchen.

"Now, we must move quickly," Dumbledore turned to the rest of the room. "Nymphadora, go to any of our people at the Ministry who are yet unaware of the situation- Kingsley and Arthur especially. Alastor, I need you to discreetly contact Amelia Bones, she may well be among the next targets if Voldemort is, in fact, trying to effect a Ministry-wide takeover." He then turned to Lupin. "Remus, warn Dedalus Diggle and Hestia Jones- they are with Harry and Hermione's families, respectively- but avoid alarming the muggles too much, if at all possible."

With quick nods and words of farewell, the three departed the room. Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat waiting.

"One good thing may come from this," Dumbledore murmured. "If Voldemort is too distracted trying to take over the wizarding world, our task may be easier in the coming weeks. We shall have to move quickly as well." Almost reluctantly, he turned to Hermione. "You have means of reaching Severus?"

She nodded. "He left me enough to know where he would be and when."

"I do not trust a message," he told her, "Too much depends on Voldemort believing that we are still in the dark. I need you to go to him. Tell him everything that has transpired and tell him that our timeline must be advanced," he did not specify which timeline, but Hermione suspected that he referred to seeking out the next horcrux. "He shall have to cut his trip a day short at the least, we need to act by the day that the Governors wish to speak to all of us. He should be home in two days at the latest."

She nodded and left swiftly, apparating back to Prince Manor to acquire her list of places and names and change into a hooded cloak, not wanting to think about the consequences if someone should recognize her in some distant place. She pondered some poly-juice potion, but then decided not to risk it. The chance of being hexed by Snape seemed more likely than someone actually taking that careful stock of her appearance, especially in- she consulted her list- Calgary, Canada.

A tad nervously, she apparated, never having moved over any great distance before. It seemed to take a second or two longer, which she found briefly interesting, before she appeared in The Witches Brew, a small inn which seemed rather comparable to The Leaky Cauldron. Before she had much time to investigate her surroundings, a voice startled her out of her contemplation.

"Ever heard of knocking, eh?" a small woman who seemed to be the innkeeper stood behind a counter. Hermione realized it was quite early in the morning (or late at night) and that she _had_ just appeared in the middle of the lobby of this small place, and she opened her mouth to apologize, but she was waved off.

"Happens all the time, I'm only joking," the woman looked friendly enough. "The name's Paula. What can I do for you, dear?"

"Oh!" Hermione had almost forgotten her purpose in coming. "I'm wondering if you could tell me where I might find a Mr. Tobias Carter?" she nearly laughed aloud at the pseudonym.

"I can- but let me ask you, is he expecting you? Doesn't look like too pleasant a fellow," Hermione wondered if she was referring to Snape himself or a poly-juiced form of him, "and it's awfully late to be banging on someone's door."

"Oh, he's expecting me, don't worry," she smiled in what she hoped was a thankful manner.

The woman sized her up and down for a few moments. "Alright, if you say so," she muttered. "Upstairs, room twelve. Down the hall on the left."

Hermione quickly took the prescribed route and stood outside room twelve, hand on her wand. _Here goes nothing_, she thought, and tapped lightly on the door, hoping he was still awake. She was reassured when she heard movement quickly from within- and then the door flung open, she was grabbed, spun, and pushed against the wall of the room even as the door slammed shut behind her. She tried to cry out, but a hand was firmly in place over her mouth. Another hand ripped the hood down off of her head and then placed a wand at her temple.

"Where did Hermione Granger brew poly-juice potion during her second year at Hogwarts?" the hand was removed from her mouth so she could speak.

"Moaning Myrtle's bathroom," she gasped, heart racing. The wand was lowered, and he turned her around, looking apologetic. "What muggle composer did Severus Snape specifically indicate he enjoyed?"

"Bach," came the smooth reply. "I am sorry. Precautions are, of course, necessary in my position now more than ever."

"Understood," she murmured, unclasping the cloak she wore and throwing it over a chair.

"Why are you here? What's happened?"

She sighed. "Mind if I sit?" she asked. "It's a bit of a long story." He gestured for her to take a seat, and she perched on the edge of the bed and then launched into the tale. "I assume you've heard that Yestin resigned?"

"Of course."

"Well, last night, Kingsley came to inform us of such. Professor Dumbledore was worried at the suddenness of it, but we had no particular reason to suspect foul play."

"And you do now?" he guessed.

"Professor Dumbledore received an odd letter this morning- it was from the School Governors, asking to meet with him, myself, Harry, and Ron about what happened back in March and April with You-Know-Who. We were all sent separate letters though, and they all asked to meet at a different time. Professor Dumbledore thinks that it's an attempt to get the three of us hostage so he'll turn himself over."

"It is a weak attempt in that case, but it seems likely," he conceded. "Continue."

"And then Percy Weasley showed up, injured, at the Burrow." Snape's eyebrows shot up towards his hairline. "Professor Dumbledore brought him back to Grimmauld Place where he told us that Yestin has been murdered."

Snape exhaled slowly. "The Dark Lord must be getting desperate indeed if he thinks he is ready to take over the Ministry."

"It was craftily done though," Hermione told him, "Percy stumbled across a group- I presume Death Eaters- discussing the murder. He only just got away. If it weren't for him though, we'd have no proof of what had happened, not yet at least. He also suspects that Levinson is under the _Imperius_ curse."

"What's being done?"

"I'm not really sure yet. Professor Dumbledore sent Tonks to get in touch with our people at the Ministry, Moody to Madam Bones, and Remus to Hestia Jones and Dedalus Diggle, who are currently on watch with mine and Harry's families."

"And then he sent you to me."

"There was more, a message for you. He says that your timeline must be advanced, that you need to return home within the next two days." Snape looked quickly at her, and saw that she knew what timeline she was talking about.

"Did he indicate a particular reason?" Snape looked perturbed.

"He says you must act by the time the Governors wish to talk to us all. He didn't say why, specifically."

Snape pondered this a minute. "My guess would be that he is afraid of what will happen when you don't show. When it comes to subduing Dumbledore, the Dark Lord will go to any methods- I suspect he wishes to have his task out of the way before such methods may be enacted."

"Other than trying to kidnap me, Harry, and Ron, you mean?"

"He probably assumes that plan will fail," Snape looked contemplative. "But why go through with it at all?" he was talking to himself and thinking hard. "Unless he'll use it to discredit Dumbledore further…" He shook his head. "I do not know- it has been too long since I've seen into the Dark Lord's mind, I struggle to fathom his next step."

Hermione had no response to this.

"I should probably get back," she finally muttered.

"Yes, you should," he said with such an air of finality, she may as well been arguing the point. "Tell Professor Dumbledore that I will return late tomorrow night. That should give us some time to discuss anything that needs discussing." He held up her cloak and helped her shrug back into it. "In the meantime, try to heed my earlier cautions about staying in Grimmauld Place or Prince Manor, and staying _out_ of trouble."

"Tell that to the trouble," she said sardonically. He gave her a pointed look. "Alright, alright, I'll do my best," she told him, smiling. And then she was gone, leaving him with entirely too much on his mind to even contemplate going to sleep.

SCENESCENESCENESCENE

**A/N: I'm hoping that I get some work done on this story this weekend, but I have a BUNCH of reading to do for next week, so we'll see. Definitely wanted to finish up this chapter so I didn't leave you all hanging all weekend though. :-)**

**Until next time,**

**Cheers!**


	11. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: All JKR's. (plot (mostly) excluded I suppose)**

**Chapter 10**

Grimmauld Place was somber upon Hermione's return. News of the takeover had spread within the Order, and more people had congregated to hear the complete story from Percy. Those who worked for the Ministry were warned to be on their guard, as Voldemort's people probably had their suspicions regarding membership in the Order of the Phoenix. That evening, Dumbledore took Hermione aside.

"I think it is time, given the brazenness of Voldemort's move, to begin doling out what we have of the potion which you and Severus have been so diligently working on. I worry about those among us who work in close contact with the Minister's office."

Hermione pondered a few moments. "We have perhaps thirty doses."

"And a dose is effective for how long?"

"Six hours, definitely. We're trying to work out how to increase the potency for up to twelve at a time, but we had to delay our research for more tears, we didn't want to risk wasting any."

"Very well; if possible, I would like to provide Arthur with some, I worry most about his position; he is well known to be friends with Harry and myself, and Lucius Malfoy has long had a personal feud with him. Also, if she will consent to take it with little knowledge of its origins, Madam Bones. As head of the judicial dealings within the Ministry, ridding himself of her will go a long way towards enabling Voldemort to begin exerting his rule on the enforcement department as well."

"The aurors?" Hermione asked. "Would many of them work for him?"

"Kingsley is quite influential among them. Many would remain loyal to him when it came to an open conflict between Voldemort and the Order," Dumbledore told her. "Some, however, enjoy their power a little too much. Much like the dementors, they would change sides in a heartbeat, merely because Voldemort's Ministry would enable them to openly use their powers in new ways, against innocents, muggles, muggle-borns, and the like."

He paused and sighed.

"I fear that, should Madam Bones fall, the remainder of the Ministry will fall quickly behind. Until he has full control, Voldemort can not risk openly attacking her position through the Minister, which makes me believe that she will be the next target for assassination. I am pinning my hopes that, should that occur, it will be a swift attempt at assassination, not a kidnap and torture plot which is all too common for him. The potion is a wonderful thing, but will only help us if it is in _that_ way that he attempts to have her killed."

"Was Professor Moody able to get in touch with her?"

Dumbledore smiled faintly at her use of the word 'professor,' considering she had never actually sat in a class with the man. "She has consented to meet him this evening, discreetly. I will not show myself until he gives me the go ahead; I don't want to give Voldemort any more incentive to rid himself of her by believing her to be an Order member."

"When should I bring you the potion?"

"Tomorrow morning?" she nodded. "If Amelia consents to use it, I will send some with Arthur tomorrow, he will find some way to get it to her surreptitiously."

Shortly after talking with Dumbledore, Hermione returned to Prince Manor, contemplating just how much less complicated her life would be had she never received a Hogwarts letter.

She woke early the next morning and carefully portioned five doses of the potion each into two separate vials. She then completed her necessary brewing tasks for the morning and headed to Grimmauld Place. Dumbledore was already there waiting for her, sitting smilingly at the kitchen table with Arthur and Percy Weasley.

"Good morning, Hermione," Arthur said warmly. "I appreciate what you're doing for myself and Madam Bones," he indicated the flasks in her hands. "I understand that soon you'll be able to finish vast supplies of this for everyone?"

"Very soon," she promised. "It's already started. We're just waiting on-," she eyed Percy, not sure how much he knew, "a few additional resources," she finished.

"Fabulous," Dumbledore regarded her kindly. "Amelia has agreed, and so Arthur will be delivering one vial for her use." Arthur stood up, they all said their farewells and good lucks, and he was gone. "And now, Percy has been very patiently sitting here in the dark for some time now, and so I will say this: Percy, this is the point at which you may turn away. I trust that the membership and location of this group shall remain secret with you if you should choose not to join us. But if you wish to remain, there are a couple of things which you need to know and understand before tonight, or you may be in for a nasty shock later."

Percy looked suddenly apprehensive. He considered seriously for several long moments, but he did not waver in his decision from the day before. "I'm in," he said. "I want to help."

"Very well. Then we shall start with this potion which your father has taken to Madam Bones. Miss Granger?"

She looked startled, but quickly fell into lecture and explanation mode. "It's a potion which protects the person who takes it from the killing curse. Currently, it has an effectiveness of six hours, maybe up to ten depending on factors like age, weight, and magical ability. Six, to be safe, however. It was over a year in the making, and was perfected in April shortly following our safe return from being captives of You-Know-Who."

Percy had listened to this entire explanation with his mouth hanging wide open. "You- you made this?" he asked, flabbergasted. Hermione shot a quick look at Dumbledore, who nodded encouragingly.

"Not quite- I helped in the latter stages mostly. The principal brewer was, of course, Professor Snape."

"Snape?" Percy's voice became higher pitched. "I thought he died a spy for You-Know-Who! Why would he spend all this time working on this potion?"

"He has been loyal to this side for sixteen years," Dumbledore interjected quietly. "And he is not dead."

"But- you gave a speech after it happened- and the _Prophet_…" Percy looked completely lost and confused.

"Think what we just told you," Hermione suggested calmly. "What he'd been working on for almost a year at that time. He knew his life was forfeit that night. His death was faked."

"Hold on," Percy held up a hand, thinking. "Hold on. Snape…what about all the _other_ stuff the _Prophet_ said about him? That he was killed for…hurting students…?" he looked decidedly uncomfortable now.

"We er…had to do a bit of playacting in between brewing the potion," Hermione said, "You-Know-Who sent Lucius Malfoy to ensure he was…you know," now she was uncomfortable. "As far as the death eaters knew, he _was_ 'abusing' me and whatever else the _Prophet _said." Catching Percy's confused look, she elaborated. "Yes, the student in question was me, the paper just couldn't report it. We were able to complete the potion during the school year as a result of the situation though," she told him, "and he was able to sneak some to Harry, Ron, and myself the night we were to be killed."

Percy was silent and thoughtful.

"One last point," Dumbledore mentioned. "Draco Malfoy is on our side. He does not come regularly, but knows the location of this safe house should he ever need it."

Percy nodded. It didn't look like anything could shock him at this point.

SCENESCENESCENESCENESCENE

Hermione went to bed late that night, hoping that Snape might get home before she slept. At midnight though, she was too tired to stay awake, and she headed up to her room and went to sleep.

Some two hours later, she awoke to the sound of the door opening and closing, and a dim light filled the room. She blinked, eyes adjusting, and saw Snape approaching the side of her bed. She sat up.

"Sorry if I woke you," he murmured. "I thought you'd want to hear about the results of my trip though, and to know I was back."

"Absolutely," Hermione woke up a little more to those words, but yawned nonetheless. He raised his eyebrows.

"Perhaps it would be more prudent to catch up on things in the morning," he smirked at her. "Won't do me much good if you fall right back asleep."

She fumbled under the blanket, freeing her arm, and reached out and gripped his hand, preventing him from turning and leaving. "Don't go," she implored. "Please- I want to know how it went." He paused for a moment or two, judging whether or not she would stay awake longer than fifteen seconds. Seemingly satisfied, however, he conjured up a chair and took a seat next to the bed.

"I, of course, was forced to cut the last part of my quest short; however, the first part of it was successful enough to more than make up for it. Through a number of anonymous contacts, I located several apothecaries which deal primarily in rare and expensive, sometimes illegal, ingredients throughout parts of Europe and the Americas."

"And you were able to acquire more tears?"

"You remember how potent the one small vial which Albus gave me was?" she nodded. "All told, I have around ten times that amount. I've already stored it down in the lab."

Hermione gaped. "That must've been expensive!"

"Albus and I have our ways," Snape smirked furtively. "And it'll be enough for some…" he did some quick calculations, "five hundred doses of the potion, I think. Maybe more."

Hermione was wide awake now, grinning ear-to-ear. "That's wonderful," she said sincerely. "How long is it until the tears are added into the batch we just started brewing before you left?"

"Another four days," he assured her. "And in the meantime, we can begin another, even larger, quantity. I did not want to overestimate my chances when I began the new portion, but we now have more than enough to start at least twice that amount."

"And other than getting the tears- did the rest of the trip go alright?"

It was Snape's turn to yawn. "One of the apothecaries I visited the day you arrived was very suspicious and hard to convince about who I was."

Hermione frowned. "Phoenix tears aren't dangerous though. Why would he care?"

"Potions masters are very logical-minded people," he reminded her, "out of sheer necessity for what they do. If someone is going around, enquiring after large amounts of a particular, rare, expensive ingredient, it must be good for something, and if the person selling it doesn't know what it's good for, he's bound to wonder. Because of that though, I was even more paranoid when you knocked."

"Sorry," she smiled sheepishly. He yawned again. "Now who needs to go to bed?" she asked wryly. He nodded and acknowledged the truth of her assessment.

"I need to get up early to go speak with Albus," he admitted. "It would be in my interests to get what sleep I can now." He frowned at Hermione's sudden look of anxiety, but did not comment. "Good night, Miss Granger."

"Good night, sir," she murmured softly as he retreated from the room, not sure if he even heard her.

SCENESCENESCENESCENESCENESCENESCENE

Hermione did not see Snape down in the lab the next morning; he was already gone to confer with Professor Dumbledore. She noted that he had already completed the essential tasks in the lab, and so she trudged back up the stairs and grabbed a quick breakfast from Harmony, brooding a bit about the direction in which that conversation was likely going.

It wasn't, in fact, until after lunch that Hermione saw Snape again. He returned looking weary and resigned, and he paid little heed to her attempts to engage him in a discussion of what the results of his conference had been. Finally, he snapped that he needed a couple more hours of sleep and she was left frustrated. She realized though, that he'd essentially changed over several different time zones in only a few short days and _was_ probably very messed up on sleep, and then she felt bad for not considering this before.

In fact, when he reemerged later that afternoon, he did look physically better, but still had an air of avoidance to his speech, like he was skirting an issue that he needed to discuss, but didn't know how to go about it. Finally, she lost patience and said-

"You're going tonight, aren't you? After a horcrux?"

"Well ascertained, Miss Granger," his suddenly snide reply made Hermione frown. "And?"

"I- nothing," she snapped right back. "You seemed distracted, that's all. Thought you might have something you wanted to talk about."

A shadow passed over Snape's face and he paused. After a long moment, he spoke carefully. "The potion-," he began, but Hermione headed him off, temper running short.

"Professor Dumbledore already brought that up," she sighed wearily. Looking up, she saw a hard glint in Snape's eye, making him look fiercer than she'd seen in a long time.

"Good to see he has my affairs in order then." Hermione winced, realizing how her comment had sounded. Like Professor Dumbledore didn't expect him to survive.

"You know that's not why he mentioned it," she tried to backtrack, but feared it was too late. "He just needs to be sure that all of his bases are covered."

"_His_ bases, indeed." Hermione had never heard Snape sound so bitter, and she was at a loss to its cause.

"He loves you," she spoke slowly. "Surely you don't think he'd throw your life away."

Snape eyed her for a moment, looking conflicted. But the look was gone so quickly, she thought she'd imagined it. He averted his gaze from her eyes. "Your naïve outlook on life is charming," he said mirthlessly. "This is a war."

Angry beyond measure, Hermione stood and made to leave the room. She paused in the doorway. "The abandonment of feeling in a time of crisis- what's left to fight for?"

And she turned and apparated, missing the stricken look on Snape's face.

Seconds later, she was storming into the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, thoughtlessly and efficiently tearing down the protective charms which had been placed there to prevent just such an intrusion. As she walked in, Harry jumped to his feet.

"Hermione! Blimey, you scared-," she cut him off, staring directly at Dumbledore.

"Bring him back tonight, or I'll never forgive you."

Without waiting for a response, she turned heel and was gone.

SCENESCENESCENESCENESCENESCENESCENE

**A/N: Okay, so massive amounts of homework couldn't keep me away 0:-) I'm very excited about this particular part of this story, so I'm having a hard time concentrating on other things (lucky for you readers- less lucky for my homework, haha) **

**Tell me what you think! **

**Cheers!**


	12. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: Oh, if only I were making money…**

**Chapter 11**

Hermione had a very tense night indeed. She was miserable; she hadn't seen Snape again before he and Dumbledore had departed to Merlin knew where, he'd locked himself away in his study. She was left, instead, feeling bitter about their exchange and guilty that she hadn't fulfilled Dumbledore's wishes of her. _Just your best to assure Severus that he has something to come back to and live for. _Well, she wasn't entirely sure what she was supposed to have done; but somehow, accusing him of erasing all feeling and emotion from life didn't quite seem like a step in the right direction.

Hermione was sitting down in the dining room contemplating all of this when she heard the rush of the floo in the parlor. She stood up as Harry came round the corner, but he smiled and waved her to sit back down, taking a seat himself.

"You know," he said wryly, "this whole underage thing is _really_ starting to grate on my nerves. I hate floo powder with a fiery passion- apparating would be so much easier." He scrutinized her face for a minute, and seemed to detect some of the stress there. "You alright?"

She groaned and put her head between her hands. "I don't know…no, I guess not. I'm worried about Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape."

"I gathered as much earlier tonight," Harry interjected quietly. "What was that all about?"

She sighed. "Professor Dumbledore seems to be concerned that Professor Snape thinks he's outlived any purpose to live, and doesn't think it's worth living anymore."

"Ah…" Harry didn't really understand, but Hermione knew that she understood more about Snape's past than Harry did. She also figured that it wasn't a very good idea to tell Harry that Snape was in love with his mother.

"Anyway, he got snarky, I put my foot in my mouth, and we quarreled. And then I just felt so bad for leaving it on such a bad note, _especially_ after what Dumbledore said…but once I'd calmed down, he'd locked himself away in his study, and I never saw him again before he left."

"Hermione," Harry began slowly, "you've always seen a somewhat different side of Snape than Ron and I have. And I'm not going to pretend to fully understand what sort of friendship the two of you have now. But Dumbledore knows what he's doing, and he fully intends that both of them will succeed in locating and destroying this horcrux tonight. Besides," he added, "just as he wanted to make sure that you knew what you were doing with your potion, he told me where I could find everything I might need to continue the hunt for the horcruxes, should something happen to _him_. Just in case."

Hermione smiled weakly. "Harry, I don't know how you do it."

"Do what?"

"At the age of eleven, discover you're famous for your parents' deaths. At the age of fifteen, discover you're the one _meant_ to kill their murderer. And at the age of seventeen- almost- still be the most optimistic out of all of us."

He grinned. "If I hadn't had a funny outlook on life, I'd have probably killed myself before the age of seven." He stopped and looked at her for a few seconds. "Look," he said more somberly, "there's something else I thought I should tell you. No big deal, but you'd probably want to know."

"What is it?"

"Malfoy- Draco, of course- came by Grimmauld Place today."

"What?" She was surprised, to say the least. Draco seemed to want to avoid any direct dealings with the Order outside of her and Snape.

"Yeah. He pieced together what had happened with the Ministry from his end, wanted to make sure that we knew exactly what was going on."

"I see," Hermione said slowly, not fully understanding why Harry was tiptoeing around this particular subject. "What, did he say something else?" She froze. "Has he been forced to take the Mark?"

"No, he said that he thinks he'll be able to avoid it until he's out of school. I guess Lucius and dear old Mum aren't too keen on him being a full-fledged Death Eater quite yet."

"So what's the issue?"

Harry looked uncomfortable. "Nothing…it's just…he looks different. Changed. I think he's seen more this summer than he cares to remember or admit. Anyway, Snape offered to get you so you could say hi, and Draco refused. Said he couldn't see you." He paused again. "I think it's getting to him, whatever he's seen or done with Voldemort or Lucius. He and Snape talked alone for a long time after he gave his message to Dumbledore."

That made sense to Hermione though. "Professor Snape's always been very adamant that Draco and I maintain a certain distance, given the precariousness of his situation."

"It's the same situation Snape himself was in until just a few months ago," he pointed out, eyebrows raised.

"And he learned his lesson," she said bluntly. Her expression softened. "It's okay. I'm not upset. The Order comes first, as does Draco's life. I'm not offended that he couldn't stop by to say hi."

Harry examined her closely.

"Come back to Grimmauld Place with me," he said, seeming to feel that the prior matter was closed. "It's lonely here, you'll just sit here and worry."

"Thanks, but I shouldn't," he opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off. "I appreciate it, I really do," she assured him, "but I have to add some lacewings into the potion in another half hour, so I should stay here. Go on though," she smiled reassuringly. "I know the Weasleys will start to get antsy if you're not back right away."

He looked at her doubtfully, wondering if she was just trying to avoid the social scene of Grimmauld Place. "If you're sure then…"

"I am. I'm sure I'll see you tomorrow though. And Harry," she called to him as he turned to walk back to the fireplace, "thanks."

He smiled lightly and nodded before disappearing in a rush of green flame.

SCENESCENESCENESCENESCENESCENE

It was as she was just finished adding the lacewings and preparing the potion to sit overnight before the next step that Harmony appeared suddenly at her side, nearly causing her to shoot sparks into a potion at its most volatile stage.

"Don't do that, Harmony!" Hermione was so frazzled that she momentarily forgot her quest to always be kind as possible to all house-elves. "I nearly ruined this potion!"

"Sorry, but Professor Dumbledore is sending me, Hermione. He says that he urgently needs a bezoar, and that you should come to Master Snape's room 'at your earliest convenience.'"

"Dumbledore!" she gasped. "They're back?" And then the words clicked. "A bezoar- someone's been poisoned?" she wasted no more time on pondering what had happened, but quickly summoned the small box and handed it to Harmony. "Take this to him, please. I'll be up in a minute."

She spent a great deal less time ensuring the safety and security of the potion overnight than she normally would have, mind frantic with worry. They hadn't been gone long- two hours at the most, she thought. But why did he need a bezoar? Was it for Dumbledore himself, or Snape? Presumably Snape, if Dumbledore was giving the orders.

Once she was completed with her task, and wasting no time on stairs, she turned and apparated, appearing at Snape's bedside. Snape was in the bed and seemed restless- he was thrashing and muttering, but she discerned no intelligible words. Dumbledore, apparently having already given him the bezoar, was clutching Snape's hand anxiously and looked more disheveled than Hermione could ever remember seeing him.

"What's- what's happened?" Hermione was hardly able to choke out the words. Dumbledore started as though he had not realized her presence, despite the pop which had signaled her arrival in the room. "Has he been poisoned?"

"Not precisely, no," Dumbledore murmured, feeling Snape's forehead with the back of his hand. "A cruel potion is at work indeed, but not one meant to kill. I had rather hoped that the bezoar would help- and indeed, it seems to be lessening the bodily effects of it- but Severus is trapped within his own mind right now."

Hermione said nothing as she observed Snape. Indeed, he was moving less, but the muttering seemed to increase more than enough to make up for it. She could only pick out occasional words- 'dead,' 'forgive,' and 'blood' seemed to be among the more commonly repeated.

She felt tears start to well up in her eyes. "I don't understand," she whispered.

Dumbledore seemed to finally be fully aware of her presence, now that Snape was more stabilized. With a heavy sigh, he sat down and put his head in his hands. Hermione took hold of the hand that he had released, and Snape gripped it tightly, seemingly out of reflex. Dumbledore looked up at her bewildered gasp and frowned, staring at their hands. Shaking his head, he turned his attention towards Hermione.

"All went well," he started lowly, "we reached the hidden entrance of his hiding spot with little trouble. We were able to enter," here, he clenched his own hand reflexively, and Hermione noticed it was bleeding, "and there was a boat. It took us to the island."

"And?"

"There was a basin with a goblet," he shuddered at the memory of it. "It couldn't be emptied. The horcrux was visible beneath the liquid, but no matter what, the liquid could not be removed." He was pale and shaking.

"He drank it?" Hermione whispered incredulously.

"It was the only way. We quarreled over it as long as we dared. Each felt as though he should be the one forced to consume the ghastly stuff. Neither wanted to inflict what would undoubtedly be horrible pain on the other."

"But he won?" Hermione's voice was flat.

"He insisted- swore that he wouldn't complete the task if I were the one to drink- said I needed to keep my strength for tomorrow when the Governors will undoubtedly try to arrest me. He would hear no reason. I was forced to give in."

Hermione could only stare in horror. "What's it doing to him?" her voice was unnaturally high. Dumbledore either ignored the question or didn't hear it at all.

"The first goblet wasn't so bad," he continued his narration, a horrified expression on his face. "He willingly accepted the second. But then-," here he dropped his head back in his hands, "then the potion began its true work. He screamed, at me and at no one in particular, swore, begged for death…and then he began to call out to Lily, beg her forgiveness, sob over her death." He had tears running down his face as he looked up at her. "What's it doing to him?" he repeated her question bitterly. "It's forcing him to relive the worst parts of his life, his deepest regrets again and again. It's like a potion made from the essence of the dementor."

"Will it kill him?" Dumbledore looked back at Snape and sighed.

"I don't know," he sounded scared. "Normally, I'd guess not but Severus- he has _much_ deeper regrets in his past, deeper than many of us can possibly fathom. He is quite literally trapped among them in his own mind, and I don't know how to get him out."

She frowned. "How did you get him away from that awful place?"

He paused and thought about it. "He…seemed to regain control of himself for a time," he muttered, confused. "When it seemed he would be unable to leave, I told him that there was a very angry young witch who would hex me back to the founder's age, and he seemed to respond to that- possibly the promise of seeing me hexed was too much to refuse," he smiled faintly. "But as we made our way from the cave, he regressed back to this stage, and I have been unable to bring him back. I don't know what to do- the bezoar was my best hope and, though it has helped, I fear that it won't be enough. Perhaps time will prove me wrong," but he didn't sound hopeful.

Hermione was silent and pensive. The two sat like that for a long time, staring at Snape as he grew more and more still but continued to talk aloud, sometimes sounding angry, sometimes sad or scared. His eyes opened periodically, but they were unseeing- or at least they saw nothing of this world. She found the scene disturbingly similar to that after he nearly died at Voldemort's hands.

But as she thought about it, the more convinced she was that she already _knew_ what had to be done- she was afraid to do it though. It was he, however, who had provided her this knowledge, however unintentionally.

_Barring ones mind is not always desirable. Sometimes you must let it out, or you will feel the burden ten times as strongly._

"I can help," she whispered, standing up and pulling out her wand. Dumbledore looked up at her sharply.

"Miss Granger?" he questioned. She paid him no heed, however, and drew level with Snape's face, standing next to the bed. With one hand, she gripped her wand and aimed it steadily towards him. With the other, she reached out and tilted his head so that he was facing her.

"Hermione…"

When Snape's eyes opened, she acted.

"_Legilimens_," she whispered, ignoring Dumbledore's shocked exclamation.

Despite her skills in occlumency, Hermione was _not_ a trained legimens. It didn't matter. The strength of Snape's feelings of guilt, betrayal, and anguish were so great that, even unable to discern particular images or memories from the flow, Hermione was able to feel brunt of the force of them. She was vaguely aware of her own weakening self as her mind was inundated, could feel Dumbledore talking somewhere in the background, and then his hands were on her shoulders, preventing her from falling to the floor.

Just as she thought she could bear no more, the influx suddenly stopped. She vaguely registered that the world was spinning most unnaturally before she blacked out.

SCENESCENESCENESCENESCENE

"Water…"

A ravaging thirst unlike any other he'd even known parched his throat and mouth. He felt a cup raised to his lips but shied away, struggling to register his surroundings.

"It's alright, my boy. Water this time. I promise."

He took a hesitant sip and, finding no fault in the liquid, gulped the rest furiously. When he was sated, he sighed, took a deep breath, and opened his eyes.

The first thing he noticed that it was rather bright. The second was that there was an unconscious girl lying next to him and he struggled to come up with a adequate explanation for why that might be so. He looked up at Dumbledore and noted his anxiously relieved expression. He gestured as best he could to Hermione.

"What-?" he trailed off, mouth still dry enough to make speaking difficult. Dumbledore understood the gist of his confusion though.

"Miss Granger has again proved herself of a stronger mettle than I could ever hope for," he said quietly. "She has greatly overtaxed herself, however, and is paying the price." Somehow, this failed to shock Snape.

"How?" he gasped, regaining his voice.

"She relieved your suffering by taking it on herself," Dumbledore informed him quietly. "I am ashamed to say that the thought never occurred to myself. Not a legilimens, however, she was ill-prepared to handle that which she endeavored to take on. She will be fine though." He eyed Snape concernedly. "Are you alright, my boy? I must confess, I was very worried."

Snape nodded but waved the question away impatiently. "The horcrux?"

Dumbledore reached carefully into his pocket and pulled out a locket on a long silver chain. A letter 'S' was visible, like a snake in the light. Snape shuddered to behold it, feeling the evil emanating off of it.

"It will be destroyed shortly," he assured him. "I wanted to make sure you were okay first, however."

"Go," Snape told him tiredly, "destroy it."

Dumbledore nodded. "I will first inform Harry of our success. I will return before going to the Ministry though." As he spoke, he noted Snape's drooping eyelids as, still severely weakened, he drifted back towards sleep.

"Severus? Shall I remove Miss Granger to her own quarters or would you like me to leave her here until you're both recovered." Snape muttered something that Dumbledore thought might have been 'stay,' but then he was asleep again. Chuckling, he figured he may as well leave her- undoubtedly both would want to be sure of the other's well-being upon waking up anyway.

And with a POP!, he was gone.

SCENESCENESCENESCENE

**A/N: That was fun. :-) **

**Thanks for your reviews, everyone. They've been most helpful. **

**Until next chapter (Wednesday or Thursday, I suspect)**

**Cheers!**


	13. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: Most characters and parts of the plot are JKs. Unrecognizable facets of either are mine. :-) **

**Chapter 12**

Hermione slowly became aware of something touching the side of her face and then her forehead. She tried to shake it away, but found herself struggling to move at all. She froze at the sound of voices though.

"…starting to come around."

"About bloody time."

"Be nice, Severus, she's undertaken a lot of mental stress."

"And whose fault is that?"

Hermione finally managed to coax her eyes open, and her immediate thought was that this was all wrong. _She_ wasn't supposed to be the one in the bed. Snape was. She frowned and fought the murky puddles into which her mind seemed to have congealed in order to ascertain what had happened.

Dumbledore was standing at her side, smiling brilliantly as ever. Snape sat in the chair which she herself had formerly occupied that night, looking perhaps paler than usual, but otherwise in good health.

"How do you feel, my dear?" Hermione blinked up at Dumbledore.

Well that was a strange question. How _did_ she feel? Emotional, angry, bitter- she was alarmed as her mind went through a series of emotions that seemed to not quite be her own…but even as she began to panic, they slowly subsided and ebbed away. She was left with an odd sensation though.

"Full," she said slowly. "Like I've tried to cram too much into my brain."

Snape snorted. "Good heavens, is _that_ was it takes to overwhelm that mind of yours?" Hermione just sneered at him and he paused, looking quite taken a back for a moment. Dumbledore laughed heartily.

"My, Severus, I hope her retention of your manners is not a permanent side effect!"

Hermione was finally able to fully wrap her mind around what she'd done. "How long was I out?"

"The better part of the night, actually. A good five or six hours, I would say." Hermione started.

"That wasn't quite what I was expecting," she admitted sheepishly.

Snape scoffed. "You probably could have killed yourself, you silly girl."

Dumbledore, however, held up a hand against Snape's rebuke. "No lasting harm is done and, indeed, Severus seems none the worse for wear after his experience." He gave Snape a stern look that might have been a reprimand for not expressing his own gratitude. Nonetheless, he let it go.

"I have to leave soon," he continued. "I am going to the Ministry this morning in the stead of yourself and Mssrs. Potter and Weasley."

"Do you think they'll try to arrest you again?" Hermione asked anxiously, but remembered the failed attempt to do so under Fudge and Umbridge during her fifth year.

"I daresay that may be their eventual design," Dumbledore acknowledged somberly. "But remember, the governors are still the same as before, despite the influence Voldemort is slowly extending over the rest of the Ministry. My guess (may I be proved wrong) is that they will convey the outcome of our meeting today to the 'minister,' and after that the events which will prove crucial to this coming term will begin to unfold."

"You think you'll be forced to leave Hogwarts?" Hermione read more into the statement than was said.

He smiled kindly. "What you must understand, my dear, is that my work now will lie with Harry; the events at the Ministry in the past week have proven that I can not afford to continue at the snail's pace with which I have moved for the past six years. It is in the best interests of most for me to relinquish my position to Minerva."

She frowned. "Why go through with this silly meeting at all then? Why not simply resign?"

"Ah, but then what would Voldemort think? If I suddenly and willingly abandon Hogwarts which I have fought so hard to protect for decades now…what could possibly be important enough to draw me elsewhere? Or would I merely be saving face in light of embarrassing circumstances regarding a traitorous teacher?" he glanced mirthfully at Snape, who scowled. "No, I will pretend to let the Ministry- Voldemort really- back me precisely where they want me. It will, indeed, free my time up remarkably to conduct some more, ah- _personal_ business." His face hardened ever so slightly at the prospect of four more horcruxes to be hunted down.

"Well I wish you the best of luck, in any case," Hermione told him. "I'm sure no one will be happy when Harry doesn't show up today."

Dumbledore left shortly after that. He inquired after both of them once more, making sure that they felt fine physically and mentally, aside from Hermione's rather bizarre sensation of having a quite full mind. Once they assured him that they would be fine if left to their own devices, he took his leave and, with a twinkle of the eye as he regarded them, he turned and disapparated. Hermione and Snape were left alone.

He was watching her with a carefully schooled expression. It wasn't one of annoyance, per say- but it still made her a little uncomfortable. Did he resent the invasion of his mind which she had committed earlier today, even if it had potentially saved his life? Finally, he sighed.

"Whatever am I going to do with you?"

"I suppose a 'thank you' is out of the question then?" she asked wryly.

"It was dangerous," he said sharply.

"I'd do it again," she murmured quietly. "Without hesitation."

He was silent for several long moments after that. Then- "Why not tell Albus your idea? He's a trained legilimens." She shrugged uncomfortably.

"Somehow…it just didn't occur to me," she struggled to explain. "It just felt right that I should be the one, I don't know why. Maybe because you did the same for me recently; it was that, after my parents left, that gave me the idea, after all; and well…"

"Yes?"

"You reacted to me differently. You were raving when I got here but when I took your hand, you gripped it tightly, like you were aware of my presence here though you'd failed to acknowledge Professor Dumbledore's." She didn't mention what Dumbledore told her about eliciting a response from Snape in the cave by mentioning her and her threat. She shrugged again. "It was instinctive, I barely thought about what I was doing."

"That much," he said dryly, "is obvious." But the censure was gone from his voice, and his gaze on her was kindly.

"Can I ask you something, sir?" He motioned her to proceed. "Since my head feels oddly…_full_…does yours feel emptier than usual?" He stared at her dumbly for a few seconds before he let out a short bark of laughter.

"Lighter, I would say, not emptier." He seemed hesitant to ask his question. "What did you see?" he finally managed.

"Oh!" she hadn't even thought that _that's_ what would bother him about her taking on his emotions. "Nothing really, at least not that I can remember. I _felt_ more than I saw; fear, anger, hurt, guilt- and I still felt some of that when I woke up, but it's gone."

He seemed relieved. He left for a few seconds to go find something in the bathroom- when he returned, he handed her a vial. "I don't know if it'll help, but it's worth a try." She took it without question and drank quickly. Immediately, her head felt more normal, but a little fuzzy now. She fought to keep her eyes open.

"Oh, it's combined with a sleeping draught as well," he smirked at her expression of tired outrage. "You really should get some more rest."

She could do little but mutter indignantly as she drifted back into the realm of the unconscious. She was vaguely aware, however, of a blanket being tucked around her shoulders and a soft voice close by her ear.

"Thank you, Hermione."

SCENESCENESCENESCENESCENESCENESCENESCENE

Hermione woke up back in her own room. Her head was now completely back to normal and she felt extraordinarily well rested. She noted the time with a bit of panic before realizing that Snape would be more than on top of matters in his own lab and had, undoubtedly, already seen to the needs of their precious potion that morning. Nevertheless, she made her way quickly down to the lab where her suspicions were confirmed.

She watched him work silently for a few minutes; he was putting the finishing touches on his tasks for the morning. As he moved to cast the spells which would ensure the safety of the potion while it sat until the next step, he spoke.

"It's not polite to stare, Miss Granger."

"It's not polite to drug people, Professor Snape." He smirked and ascended the steps behind her.

"Sometimes when there is a foreseeable stubbornness with the patient, a bit of light trickery is necessary."

"You were the one who should have been resting!" she exclaimed. "Your night was a lot worse than mine!"

"And I did rest- much better, I suspect, knowing that you were safely unconscious and would not be watching me like a hawk for the rest of the morning." Hermione thought his tone sounded a little sharper than necessary, given the jesting nature of the conversation.

"Well…do you feel alright?" she asked quietly, afraid of angering him.

"Fine," he replied shortly. Pause. "You?"

"Perfectly well, thank you," she returned softly before retreating back towards the stairs. She could have sworn she'd heard him say 'thank you' even as she fell asleep; what happened? She sighed inwardly. In six years, she had never succeeded in remotely understanding the mental workings of Severus Snape, and she wasn't likely to start now.

She stuck to her own devices that day, antsy to know what was happening at the Ministry. She was more than relieved when she received a message via patronus from Dumbledore which requested her presence at Grimmauld Place as soon as possible. She apparated, walked into the parlor- and flushed to discover that everyone was already there, sitting and waiting for her.

"Sorry," she muttered as she hurriedly took a seat between Ron and Harry, "didn't realize I was late."

"On the contrary, the fault is on my end," Dumbledore assured her pleasantly. "Call it a bit of a…miscommunication." She caught his brief glance towards Snape and frowned. Had Snape purposely neglected to pass along the message, even though she was in the same house?

Dumbledore clapped his hands together. "Well, as surely as the Chudley Cannons are to finish at the bottom…" he trailed off, catching the withering glares from Charlie, Fred, George, and Ron Weasley. "Touchy analogy perhaps? Such as it is, there is little doubt that the Ministry shall soon be demanding my resignation as headmaster of Hogwarts." He said this all quite nonchalantly, and seemed surprised at the outrage expressed on many people's faces.

"It's a sham," Bill Weasley said disparagingly. "They're all fools to be so easily hoodwinked."

"Little has been done to dissuade them against what has been reported of me and the running of the school this year, however," Dumbledore reminded gently. "But that is as it must remain. And so I am here to tell you that Minerva will soon be assuming my position. I suspect that it will only be a day or two before the next harsh critique of my performance will come out, and those parents who have not already done so will soon begin writing letters, insisting the school be put under new management."

"That happened already," Hermione said wryly. "I think they all learned their lesson, no?"

"Fear and crisis tend to make people rash and thoughtless," Lupin shrugged. "It's not so unbelievable. But Albus- even with Minerva as headmistress, this gives the Ministry precedence to enact whatever regulations they want before the start of term." He shot a sidelong glance at Hermione.

"What?" she was confused, as others were starting to give her sympathetic looks.

Snape spoke up silkily. "It is…likely…that, with the Ministry increasingly under the Dark Lord's thumb, they will prohibit attendance by students with no known magical bloodline."

"Oh." Her stomach dropped, but she did her best to school the visible emotion. How had this not occurred to her before? "Right."

"If Hermione can't go back to school, we won't either," Ron pointed out fiercely, gesturing to himself and Harry. Harry nodded fervently in agreement.

"Unfortunately, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore broke in, "that decision is most likely not a unilateral one for yourself," his eye twinkled as he glanced at the stern-looking Molly Weasley. "I have little intention, however, of allowing Harry to return to Hogwarts until our business is complete."

It was strange, Hermione reflected, the effect his words had. Five of them only understood what he meant, but the rest acknowledged it with a reverential silence. They all _knew_ that Dumbledore and Harry were working to defeat Voldemort once and for all, and, when you got right down to it, they put their faith in them fairly blindly.

"It is my best hope that the Ministry's influence will be entirely an external one; they can make policies for the school all they want, but in the end, the hands in which those policies are held are the ones that matter. And this is why Minerva's first action as new headmistress will be to inform the governors that she has already filled the three open positions on staff."

"I have?" she asked wryly.

"_I_ have," he nodded, "but am more than willing to relinquish the credit. Kingsley has most graciously agreed to take a leave of absence from the Auror department for a year so he can help maintain the safety of the students and teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. Horace Slughorn has reluctantly consented to resume his position as Potions master."

"And Transfiguration?"

"A man named Clark Everitt."

McGonagall frowned. "I've never heard of him."

Dumbledore chuckled. "I'd be surprised if you had. He's been teaching Transfiguration at a school in America."

"And you know him…how?"

"He is good friends with Chastity Burbage."

"Ah…why do I feel like there's a good deal you aren't telling us?"

"When isn't there?" Snape muttered quietly. Dumbledore ignored him.

"I spoke with Chastity recently and told her that there may be need to find new accommodations for our muggle-born students. She is, of course, very outraged at the prospect that they may be soon forbidden from attending, and set to work right away with some old contacts. Clark was one of them. He also spoke with his own headmaster and arranged a swap- Chastity will go with whatever students choose to attend school at Clark's school where she will resume their currently vacant Muggle Studies post. Clark will teach Transfiguration at Hogwarts for the time-being."

The meeting adjourned shortly thereafter; Hermione returned to Prince Manor, deep in thought. The more she pondered the likelihood that muggle-borns would be forbidden to return to Hogwarts, the more she realized that she wouldn't have returned to school anyway. The horcruxes took clear precedence, and only three were destroyed so far. Obviously she wasn't going off to some wizarding school in the United States, but she was glad that they had sought an alternative so quickly for what would inevitably come to pass. But no, she wouldn't go. She had more important work to do here. She smiled to herself. Who would ever think that Hermione Granger would consider something more important than her education?

**A/N: Yay for new chapters. Boo for classes. Freedom after 3 tomorrow though. :-) Hopefully I will have a writing-intensive weekend, as I have much less to do this weekend than last. **

**Until next time,**

**Cheers!**


	14. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: The usual that you've been reading for a dozen chapters now…**

**Chapter 13**

July melted away, though the heat of it went unfelt by Hermione who spent all of her time in either Prince Manor or Grimmauld Place.

Life went on with little event; well, perhaps event wasn't right, a lot did happen. Nothing surprising though. The Chudley Cannons lost match after match, and parents sent letter after letter demanding that Dumbledore, unalterably eccentric and senile in his old age, step down from his post. Which was, of course, exactly what the Ministry intended. It was also exactly what Dumbledore intended, and so it was that, a week before Harry's seventeenth birthday, Minerva McGonagall stepped up as Hogwarts new headmistress.

She even succeeded in appointing the three new teachers chosen by Dumbledore. The governors had no qualms about any of the suggestions. Within twenty-four hours, however, a new policy was submitted to them that matters of school positions was to be conducted on a higher level and, from now on, finding new staff was a responsibility which rested solely in the hands of the governors, though the sitting headmaster or headmistress was free to submit recommendations. Which meant, of course, that Voldemort's puppets would be in charge and _they_ would be directing the governors on who to hire. Happily, Dumbledore had known what he was doing, and had headed off this less-than-desirable circumstance.

Hermione was disappointed in the way in which her relationship with Snape had almost completely reverted to what it was last summer when he had first brought her to Prince Manor. They saw each other when brewing, but that was nearly the extent of it. He was either extremely busy all of a sudden, or avoiding her like the plague, because he never emerged for meals as far as she could tell. Sometimes, he would go to Grimmauld Place for dinner if Dumbledore had some matters to discuss with him, or among the five of them who were aware of the horcrux scheme. On these situations of forced interaction, he would treat Hermione the same way he had always treated Harry and Ron: like a complete dolt of a student who wasted his time with silly questions. She often caught Dumbledore's exasperated looks when this happened, but she was pretty resigned to it by now. He had several sporadic mood swings over the past year when she'd been working more closely with him, and this was just the latest (albeit longest and most pointedly directed at her) of those.

Feeling decidedly secluded at Prince Manor from the general goings-on with her friends, she decided to spend the night of Harry's birthday at Grimmauld Place. At the stroke of midnight, he promptly took out his wand and began casting random little spells, levitating and summoning books and the like just out of sheer enjoyment of the fact that he _could_.

Hermione spent that night in Ginny's room, enjoying the opportunity to just sit up late and talk, giggle, and gossip- not something she usually considered a favorite pastime, but it was good for relaxing and stress relief once in a while. She was surprised to hear that Ginny still harbored a liking for Harry, but Ginny made her swear she wouldn't tell Harry. Hermione was glad for this; the last thing Harry needed as he approached the final stages of defeating Voldemort was a girlfriend to be distracting him. Deep down though, she thought that, under different circumstances, Harry might confess an attraction for Ginny as well. It was hard to say. She was never very good at recognizing these sorts of things.

They woke up early on the morning of the thirty-first and snuck into Harry and Ron's room, scaring them awake with more choruses of 'happy birthday!' and presents for Harry.

As they sat eating last night's leftover cake for breakfast, Dumbledore and Snape dropped by.

"Happy birthday, my boy!" Dumbledore exclaimed.

"Thank you, sir," Harry grinned. "Would you like a piece of cake?" Snape scowled and looked impatient as Dumbledore heartily dug in, praising Molly Weasley's baking skills.

"Well, we must be on our way," Dumbledore indicated himself and Snape. "Some last-minute business to attend at Hogwarts, things to pack up and the like," his eyes twinkled and Hermione wondered what the ulterior motive for going and taking Snape along was. She couldn't ask though- Ginny and Mrs. Weasley were both in the room.

The opportunity did present itself soon after, however, for Harry, Ron, and Hermione to discuss the matter of horcruxes alone and uninterrupted. Mrs. Weasley left with Ginny to go to Diagon Alley to get her school shopping done. Mr. Weasley had insisted that someone else accompany them, and so Remus and Tonks were going as well.

They walked out the door, and Mrs. Weasley gave Ron a shrewd glare. Hermione hadn't witnessed it, but she understood that there had been quite the row between the two the week prior. Mrs. Weasley had been infuriated by the prospect that Ron would drop out of school before his last year; Ron had pointed out that Fred and George had not only dropped out during their seventh year, but had disrupted most of the school in the process.

In the end, Ron won, a fact which surprised Hermione on some levels, but not completely. Mrs. Weasley cared a great deal for Harry and knew that Ron would stick by him regardless. All-in-all, it was probably Ginny who was the most annoyed by the arrangement, as she had no real excuse to leave Hogwarts and wasn't of age and, therefore, couldn't use Ron's argument of being her own guardian. Therefore, it was a rather disgruntled duo which left to go shopping that morning.

Once they were alone, Harry seconded Hermione's suspicions that whatever Snape and Dumbledore were up to at Hogwarts had something to do with the horcruxes.

"Why else take Snape, after all?" Harry mused. "It's got to be dangerous, I mean, Hogwarts isn't exactly teeming with people right now, but there could always be someone around who would see Snape who isn't supposed to know he's alive."

Ron shrugged. "S'long as it gets Snape out of here." He paused, seeing Hermione's incredulous expression and Harry's disapproving glance. "What? He's been downright snarky lately- snarkier than usual this summer, anyway." Hermione could not argue with that. He had been unpleasant since…well, when? Finding out about the horcruxes? She supposed that made sense, but it still didn't explain the lapses in behavior…he'd be nice to her for a few days, and then they'd have a big altercation like the one before he went with Dumbledore to the cave. Or the one where she'd inadvertently reminded him about alienating Lily. She winced inwardly at the thought.

"He has been rather unpleasant lately," she agreed quietly, "but I don't think it's really fair to judge him for it. His lot is pretty bad right now; most everyone thinks he's dead, he's confined to the same places all of the time…"

"But so are we," Harry pointed out logically.

"Yes, but let's face it, we have a lot more company in general. I know Snape keeps to himself on purpose, but that's all he's been able to do while being a spy- he wasn't able to form close friendships and relationships. I don't think it's unreasonable that he be less than thrilled with life in general at the moment."

She didn't voice all that she thought- that Snape should, theoretically, have been freer of mind after the event in the cave. He certainly had seemed more open and friendly when she'd first woken up.

Her musings were cut short, however, by the apparition of a grey, ghostly daschund patronus. The three started as it began speaking.

"…don't know how they found us, but we're trapped! I've barricaded the muggles upstairs, but I don't know how long I can hold them off…Again, I require immediate assistance from the Order…"

The message was choppy and done hastily. Still, Hermione had little doubt from whom it came, and who the muggles in question were. Judging by the deathly pale shade which Harry's face had taken on, he had reached the same conclusion as her.

"Who's here?" he asked croakily. "They've all left…Snape, Dumbledore, Remus, Tonks…I have to go!"

Hermione put out a hand to slow him down. "Let me go alone," she said quickly. "If something happens to you…" but she trailed off at the look on his face.

"If this were your family, would you listen to someone tell you that?"

She came to a quick decision. Standing up, she drew her wand and saw Ron do the same.

"Wait," Harry muttered, pulling a vial from a pouch around his neck. "Here- Dumbledore made sure I always had some of this on me." It was a dose of the potion to block the killing curse. "If we all take a drink, it should last a couple of hours, right?"

Hermione nodded, and the flask was passed around. Harry returned it back to the magical pouch which shrank all of its contents, and drew his wand.

"Lead us," Hermione calmly told the patronus and reached out her hand.

They apparated with it back to the 'secret' hideaway to which Dedalus Diggle had taken the Dursleys. They heard screams and turned, wands drawn- but only the Dursley's were in the room, and all three were pale and shaking.

"What…?" Petunia Dursley's exclamation went unheard as the three quickly departed the room to find Diggle. Hermione turned and re-shielded the door, adding on to the hasty defenses already placed upon it.

They went down the stairs, following the sounds of the bangs and bursts of magical energy. They found Diggle standing in the back doorway of the house, fighting off three death eaters at once, and looking decidedly the worse for wear. He was bleeding from multiple cuts and his left arm hung limply by his side. Nonetheless, he had thus far been successful at preventing them from entering the house, but it didn't look like he could last long.

Harry crept stealthily to the opposite side of the doorframe. Diggle saw him and his eyes widened, but Harry held a finger to his lips. He waited while Diggle blocked one, two, then a third curse, and then flung himself from behind the wall.

"Stupefy!"

The foremost death eater never even saw his attacker. The other two quickly redoubled their efforts, crouching down and surveying the area, realizing that, if they'd managed to acquire one reinforcement, there may be more on the way.

"Harry! I thought- Albus, or Remus…" Diggle looked helpless. "If something happens to you…"

"It's alright, Mr. Diggle," Hermione moved next to him, avoiding the sightline of the door. "Why don't you send a message to Hogwarts- Professor Dumbledore is there- and then move upstairs and look after the Dursleys? Harry, Ron, and I can take care of these two."

He squeaked, looking torn. On one hand, he was injured and could use the reprieve to take care of his wounds. On the other, he'd be leaving the fate of himself and the three muggles upstairs with whom he'd been charged in the hands of three seventeen year old wizards.

Hermione, however, had faith in her dueling abilities.

"Please," she said hurriedly. "You'll do little good down here, you're badly hurt." He nodded and scampered to the stairs.

Taking advantage of his departure, one of the death eaters shot a curse into the house- it missed Hermione by inches and smashed against the far kitchen wall, shattering the glass panes of the cupboards. She took a deep breath.

"Alright," she took charge of the situation again. "Here's what needs to happen- Harry, they know where you are, so you'll come out first and start trying to stun them. Once they're distracted by that and give away their positions, I'll stun whichever is the easiest shot for me. Ron, that'll leave you to cover mine and Harry's backs in case he doesn't get one of them when he first comes out from behind that wall. Got it?"

Harry and Ron both shot her semi-incredulous looks, but nodded quick assent.

With a deep breath, Harry took a step from behind the door frame.

He shot off a quick spell, shielded, and dodged. Hermione took advantage of spells against him to judge the relative locations of the two standing death eaters. Eyeing one, she aimed, shot off a stunning spell wordlessly- and the masked figure dodged out of the one in the nick of time, and she cursed quietly. Having revealed herself, she found herself now the target of both death eaters' spells. She ducked back quickly in the doorway, shielding herself just in time against a curse. Ron, however, started forward to defend her, even though she was already hidden again from their view.

"No, Ron!" she inadvertently stepped back into the line of sight of one death eater as she motioned him to remain hidden. There was a flash of red light- and Hermione was on the ground in the most intense agony she could ever imagine.

She'd never been hit with the _cruciatus_ curse before, and Harry's descriptions couldn't possibly do it justice. It couldn't have been more than five seconds that she was under the curse before Harry managed to stun the death eater who had cast it, but it felt like hours. She groaned, rolled over- and her heart nearly stopped.

The last remaining death eater had his wand pointed straight at Ron, who, seeing Hermione tortured and on the ground, had moved directly into his line of fire, forgetting the duel to make sure that she was alright. There was a flash of light- green this time- and Ron was struck in the chest. He staggered backwards and fell at the blunt force of it.

But he rolled over right away, and had the sense to stay low. He crouched on the ground and took careful aim- Harry and Hermione both momentarily forgot the death eater, fearing Ron was dead despite the potion- and the death eater, too stunned to see him alive, was unable to react quickly enough to avoid the stunning spell sent his way.

There was dead silence until a pop signaled the arrival of Dumbledore.

It was one of those moments where Hermione's emotions took three turns in quick succession. First, relieved at the positive outcome of the fight. Second, elated that the potion had passed its second test with no apparent adverse side effects. Third, paralyzing fear at the look of thunderous fury on Dumbledore's face.

"Where is Dedalus?" he seemed to be speaking with forced calm.

"Upstairs, with my aunt, uncle, and cousin," Harry said without a trace of abashment for being caught where he most decidedly should not be. "He was injured, but not life-threateningly." His words seemed to ease Dumbledore's anger- a little.

He waved his wand and cords shot out of it and proceeded to bind the three stunned death eaters. He spun as new footsteps approached, but it was only Diggle, venturing forth from upstairs now that the sounds of dueling had subsided.

"Albus!" he exclaimed, relief audible in his tone. "Thank Merlin!" he said faintly, seeing the stunned bodies.

"I had little to do with their current state," Dumbledore said. "They were like that when I arrived. Perhaps you could explain?" He addressed this to all four.

"I don't know how they found us," Diggle sounded nervous now, realizing why Dumbledore was angry. "But I didn't have time to specify my message- I was busy trying to hide the muggles away. I never dreamed that if I sent a request for help to Grimmauld Place, these three would be sent!"

Dumbledore turned and raised an enquiring eyebrow at Hermione, Harry, and Ron.

"Sir, no one else was around," Harry explained simply. "Shortly after you left with Professor Snape, Mrs. Weasley, Remus, and Tonks all took Ginny to Diagon Alley. Mr. Weasley, Charlie, and Bill are all at work. The only other individual I know was in the house was Percy, and he was no where to be seen." He didn't mention that they hadn't tried to find him. "All due respect, Professor, I don't know what else you would have had me do. I could hardly ignore the call for help. Nor could Hermione or Ron."

Dumbledore's gaze eased further upon this explanation. He looked carefully at Hermione and Ron, as though offering the chance to add or detract from this explanation, but neither took it.

"Well, I can hardly let it go without saying that putting yourselves in this kind of danger, almost completely unknown- it could have been a trap, for all the message seemed to have said- that was _very_ unwise. However, I am willing to overlook this lapse in judgment given the somewhat extenuating circumstances."

Harry did look humbled at his words. None of them had considered the possibility of a trap, which was remarkably stupid, Hermione reflected, when that's what had lured them to the Department of Mysteries a year earlier.

"You will return to Grimmauld Place at once, all three of you. Dedalus and I shall remain to decide where to go from here- obviously the only barrier which separated the Dursleys from Voldemort was your seventeenth birthday, Harry."

Hermione was disturbed at this; were more death eaters attacking her parents, even as they spoke? Dumbledore seemed to read some of this on her face, however, and spoke gently.

"I will contact Emmeline as soon as possible and have her and Tonks work to relocate your parents, as an extra precaution."

She nodded her thanks, and apparated with Harry and Ron.

There were few things which could have frightened her more than seeing Dumbledore as angry as he'd been upon arriving at the Dursley's hideaway. Seeing an absolutely livid Severus Snape was one of them.

And that's exactly what they found as they walked into the kitchen.

There was silence for a long moment- the three who had newly arrived were surprised at being so quickly encountered by another angry former professor of theirs. Said former professor was surprised by their quick return.

"Well?" he hissed.

"We subdued the death eaters," Harry told him shortly. "Ron was hit by the killing curse- the potion was quite effective. Professor Dumbledore is planning new arrangements for my family with Diggle, who was injured but not severely."

"I see," Snape snarled. "Was there anything else?"

"Hermione was hit by the _cruciatus_ curse, but as you didn't spend a year developing a block to that, I wasn't sure if you'd care."

Hermione would have given just about anything to stop Harry from saying that. First of all, it was downright scathing on Harry's side, and would only serve to fuel Snape's wrath. Second, she didn't like the piercing look Snape gave her now, trying to ascertain any lasting damage from the curse.

"I see," Snape whispered. He turned to her. "Miss Granger? Might I have a word _privately_?" Hermione groaned inwardly, but tried her best to _not_ look like she dreaded the prospect.

"Of course," she acquiesced, giving Harry and Ron looks to assure them that she'd be alright and they needn't send out a search and rescue team if she didn't return soon.

Snape escorted her to the front stoop of the house and, without a word, seized her arm in a painfully tight grip, apparating both back to Prince Manor.

They appeared in Snape's own room and when he released her, she shot him a questioning look. He said nothing, but walked to a cupboard on the far side of the room, opened it, and grabbed a vial of a deep purple liquid. He thrust it at her. She looked at it doubtfully.

"It prevents the headaches and other less frequent side-effects of being subjected to the _cruciatus_ curse," he bit impatiently. Hermione was still skeptical- the last time he had given her a draught for her head, he had drugged her and put her to sleep. She was about to protest, but the look on his face stopped her. "Drink," he hissed, and she complied. After that, she stood and looked at him, waiting for him to speak. He was silent for a long time, and his anger was brewing visibly.

"Sir?" she finally managed, cringing against the onslaught which was sure to start soon. "Did you have something else-," he cut her off.

"Are you a complete and utter fool?" he asked dangerously softly.

"I'd prefer to think not," she bit back sharply.

"Then act like it!"

Hermione sighed and closed her eyes. "Sometimes life requires sudden choices that can not be analyzed and reanalyzed. I have little doubt that Harry's family would be dead or in You-Know-Who's hands by now had we not interceded."

"The cost of the death of Potter himself is a poor price to pay."

"For their lives?" Hermione exclaimed. "No one was hurt! There was never even the slightest fear of Harry being killed or captured!"

"You're missing the bigger picture here," he was angry and exasperated. _Not_ a good combination for Snape. "It is obvious that it will be far too easy to bait you when the Dark Lord decides to take the opportunity to do so. You can not rush headlong into any situation and trust that it will work itself out!"

"There was no one left in Grimmauld Place," Hermione spoke slowly and measured, trying not to lose her own temper. "We worked with what information we had."

"You could have easily gotten a message to myself or Albus first. You Gryffindors trust so implicitly in your noble-hearted intuition-," but Hermione had enough.

"Is _that_ what this is about?" she asked. "The same argument we've had already- emotion versus logic, brave versus rational?"

"You haven't quite seemed to get it yet," he pointed out savagely.

"To get what?" she demanded. "That if I wait until I have absolute confirmation that my sources are good, my parents could be dead or captive just as Harry's aunt and uncle could easily have been today? Sometimes, our basest instincts are what enable us to survive and help others around us, not some clinging hope in the higher logical order of the system." A thought occurred to her. "How much time did you spend considering and reconsidering the repercussions of coming for me last summer?" she asked quietly. "Did you weigh the benefits of saving Harry Potter's best friend against the drawbacks- drawbacks which, I might remind you, nearly _did_ cost your own life!"

Snape was stony-faced. "The situation was analyzed. My actions seemed practical at the time."

"And now? Now that you're 'dead' to most of the world, your job impossible, all because of that one decision…now does it seem practical?"

Snape's eyes flickered, but he did not answer.

"You know what separates Harry from You-Know-Who, makes him his utter opposite? His ability to love, to feel pain for others. But you…" Hermione spoke slowly, deliberately. It was harsh and cruel. She knew that before she said it. But it was something that she finally realized that Snape needed to hear. "You don't have that, do you? Years of work of duplicity to everyone around you have jaded you so deeply…and you lost the ability to love a long time ago, didn't you? Your ability to feel anything besides all-consuming guilt was erased with the death of Lily Evans."

With a snarl, he started towards her, and she backed into the wall, startled. He raised a hand and she flinched, prepared for a blow that never came. Instead, he seized her by the upper arms, and she'd not have been surprised had he physically removed her from his room. She _was_ surprised by what he actually did though.

He kissed her.

She was too stunned to move or react at all.

He released her and backed away quickly, looking horrified at what he'd done. She opened her mouth, not even sure what she'd say, closed it again, re-opened it… he beat her to it though.

"Get out."

"I…what?"

"Out, Granger, out! Leave!"

Mind a jumble of confused thoughts and emotions, and feeling tears start to form in her eyes, she obeyed his command in the most absolute of ways; she disapparated from the very spot where he'd kissed her just half a minute earlier.

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**A/N: Um. Yeah. 0;-) Do review, please. **

**Cheers! **


	15. Chapter 14

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews, folks. Especially Xedra and Sonseeahray, my very consistent reviewers :-) **

**Disclaimer: Same as usual. **

**Chapter 14**

As she stood in the dim, quiet entry way of Grimmauld Place, it struck Hermione that, had she not been so hardwired that she was _only_ allowed in Prince Manor or Grimmauld Place, she probably would have foregone the entire system and just gone somewhere else. Habit and instinct, however, had landed her here, even though she'd have much preferred a nice open field where she could just scream out her frustrations.

Such as it was, here she was, and she needed somewhere to be alone and quiet- normally, this would have been her own room at Snape's, but given that he's just thrown her out, it was probably best that she stay here for a while. The library seemed like a reasonable bet, but before she'd crept two feet towards the stairs, a voice sounded from the other end of the hallway.

"Miss Granger?" She sighed and turned to face Dumbledore. "Ah, I was just coming to speak with you and Severus."

"He's…not here," she offered unhelpfully.

Dumbledore eyed her closely and concernedly. "Is everything alright, my dear? You look upset."

She thought for a few seconds. Not really wanting to discuss the events of just a few moments ago, she settled for a half truth.

"I'm just worried about my parents, that's all."

He smiled reassuringly. "I've spoken with Emmeline. They're leaving the country. Tonight." She did her best to seem relieved, but he seemed well aware that something else was on her mind. "Mssrs. Potter and Weasley tell me that Severus was quite displeased with you," he prompted. "Did you have an argument?"

She snorted. "To put it lightly," she agreed. "We sort of…yelled at each other for a few minutes and then…well, then he threw me out," she finished lamely.

Dumbledore looked taken aback. "He threw you out?" he repeated and frowned.

Hermione couldn't understand what he found so shocking about this revelation. "I mean, it's hardly surprising," she said ruefully. "He's not been in the best of moods for a few weeks now, I guess his general annoyance at me finally came to a head today, that's all." She hoped she sounded more nonchalant than she felt.

"Hm…" Dumbledore was silent for a few moments, pondering this. "Well, I promised him I would apprise him of the situation as soon as possible, so I should be on my way. But, my dear, I do hope the two of you can move past this squabble soon. If this is Severus being in a bad mood, I shudder to think how he'll be while feuding with you for a prolonged period of time." He said this jovially, but Hermione was left in even more confusion as he took his leave.

She stealthily made her way up to the library, avoiding anyone else at all costs. This was most definitely something she needed to think over _alone_.

Snape had kissed her. _Snape_. She thought he was about to hit her or curse her or _something_. But he had grabbed her and actually kissed her.

Granted, he'd looked just about as shocked as she had been when he backed away.

Her logic-driven mind tried to make sense of this, to fit it in with all of her other interactions with Snape since last summer. Sure, they liked each other; they'd worked closely together for a year now, had helped one another in more ways than one. But the barrier in their relationship had always been very defined. He was the professor, instructor, mentor; she was the overachieving, know-it-all, bookworm of a student. Somehow, she failed to reconcile this with a frame of mind that would lead him to kiss her, even if he did immediately regret it.

True, shortly before the summer had begun, he'd finally explained that he'd seen some of Harry's mother in her. That had been what? Three months ago now? And ever since she'd returned for the summer, he'd been very inconsistent in his behavior towards her. Sometimes, she could almost see him having an attraction towards her- being _very_ protective of her visiting her parents; comforting her with unusual kindness after they'd left; unconsciously connecting to her when he was still trapped by Voldemort's potion. But he always reverted back to his usual, cold self after momentary gratitude. It was almost like the man had a quota on feelings besides sarcasm and snobbishness, and every time he'd spend an hour acting on something else, he'd spend days compensating.

But that wasn't entirely true either; they'd worked together perfectly civilly for some time. It was really only the arising of the matter of the horcruxes that had completely put him in a sour mood except for those rare instances.

She knew she wasn't really getting anywhere. As she sat down and put her head in her hands though, she had one last fleeting thought- maybe his sudden kiss had simply been a reaction to her accusation that he felt no feelings besides guilt and remorse. An attempt to prove to her and to himself that it wasn't true. Apparently it hadn't worked though; his reaction clearly showed that.

With a groan, she attempted to banish all thoughts from her head, knowing that she would fail epically at occlumency right now if someone attempted to penetrate her mind.

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"Good heavens, Severus, I don't think I've seen you look this dour since Gryffindor won the house cup six years ago."

Snape snorted. "And I don't think I've seen you look this mischievous since you worked out exactly how many points you'd have to give Longbottom to achieve that victory." He turned and eyed him skeptically. "Potter's relatives are safe?"

"Quite. They're leaving the country tonight. As are Miss Granger's parents." Dumbledore noted the slight jerk of Snape's shoulders at the mention of her. "I don't know what else I can do. If this doesn't keep them safe- I'll never forgive myself if something should happen to them."

Snape said nothing and turned away from Dumbledore's penetrating gaze. But sure enough-

"Severus, what happened between you and Hermione?"

"The little chit came running right to you, then?"

Dumbledore frowned heavily in disapproval. "As a matter of fact, I ran into her on my way out- she was trying to sneak quietly upstairs, I think. She seemed rather upset. I confronted her- she wasn't being entirely truthful on the matter- and she admitted that you two had quarreled…again …and that you had thrown her out of the house afterwards."

"In my defense, I only meant for her to leave the room, not the whole bloody house," Snape muttered. He then paused. "She was upset because I…threw her out?" he asked in a well-measured voice.

"Well yes, and about the fight itself I do believe. What else would she have to be upset over?" Snape didn't reply, and Dumbledore's eyes narrowed shrewdly. "Severus?"

"There might have been an…ah…incident." He seemed unwilling to elaborate, and Dumbledore grew impatient.

"Severus, what _sort_ of an incident? Have you hurt her in some way?" When his query was still met with silence, he became quite exasperated. "Severus, stop acting like a second year caught sneaking into Hogsmeade!" he snapped. "Tell me what you've done!"

Snape sighed. "I told her she was being rash and foolhardy. She accused me of lacking proper feeling and emotion or some such drabble. The logical response at the time - Merlin help me, I've no idea why- was to ah…kiss her."

There was a beat during which Dumbledore's face went from frustrated to incredulous. And then, most infuriatingly of all, he began _laughing_. Snape scowled deeper than ever.

"Glad you think it's so funny," he snapped. "_You_ didn't kiss some unsuspecting girl and then throw her out of your room all in about ten seconds."

"Severus," Dumbledore cried mirthfully, "you do astound the mind. Are you at least going to talk to her?"

"And tell her what?"

"You could tell her what you told me three weeks ago," Dumbledore sobered up slightly.

"Oh, that would go over well," Snape bit back sarcastically.

"You might be surprised," Dumbledore said lightly. "She's an extraordinary young woman, and she cares a great deal for you. I think you've hurt her more in the past three weeks than you realize."

Snape tensed up. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Come now," he chided. "I've been watching you. Every time you drop your guard and let her in a little, you bring it back the next day with a vengeance. She's confused."

"It's probably good for her. Someone needs to teach her that she doesn't always have the answers."

Dumbledore smiled sadly at him, wishing he would see the situation from another angle.

"I should tell you, Severus- in truth, this is something I should have told you before now- but never did I dream that, after you and I spoke about this matter, your response would be to alienate yourself from Hermione at every possible opportunity. I certainly never gave you the belief that you should behave so, I hope."

"Your point?" Snape raised his eyebrows.

"It's not healthy," Dumbledore said frankly. "And if you're planning to continue behaving as such, especially after what's transpired today, I must admit that it might be more prudent to move Miss Granger into Grimmauld Place where she would still have easy access to your lab to help you if needed."

"Is that what she desires?" He spoke in a voice of forced evenness.

"You misunderstand me, Severus, she's said nothing of the matter. Personally, however, I worry about leaving her here if your reaction to your growing affection for the girl is to treat her in such a way as to prevent her from ever seeing any of your true self. I've avoided interfering in this matter since our initial discussion, but I think it's gone on quite long enough. You either need to have an open and honest conversation, or you need to let her go."

Snape grimaced. "You really are a meddling old fool, you know that?"

Dumbledore shrugged. "I'm unemployed- how else am I to pass the time?" His eyes twinkled furiously as Snape rolled his eyes, stood up, and apparated.

SCENESCENESCENESCENESCENESCENESCENESCENE

Hermione eyed the door to the library suspiciously following the tentative knock.

Her eyes narrowed as Snape appeared, seeking her out among the darkened stacks. At last he caught sight of her, sitting with her legs curled up underneath her in a large blue armchair, giving him the frostiest glare she could muster. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him challengingly, as though daring him to exert his authority in this house that wasn't his own.

"Can we…talk?" he spoke slowly, hesitantly. She motioned with a hand that he should proceed. He took a deep breath. "Miss Granger-," but she cut him off.

"No," she stepped in adamantly. "No more Miss Granger. As your student, I was Miss Granger, and it's what you call me when you're teaching, annoyed, or angry with me. I don't think it's unreasonable to ask to be placed on even footing, given that this is a decidedly nonacademic conversation we're about to have."

Snape was taken aback with her determinedness. "My apologies," he said smoothly. "It is a habit, after all."

"You've called me by my given name before," she reminded him, voice softening slightly. "After you put me back to sleep with that spiked potion of yours…" her mouth betrayed signs of a smile, which Snape took to be a good thing. "No," her voice hardened again, "you will call me Hermione, and I will refer to you in kind…Severus." The challenge was back in her voice, daring him to contradict her demand. He did not.

"Very well," he acknowledged. "Then first let me express another apology. I do not know why I acted as I did, but I was unforgivably abrupt and forceful. Realizing this, I panicked, which is why I asked…" she raised a skeptical brow. "Very well…why I demanded that you leave."

"You're still doing it," she said lightly.

"Doing what?"

"Being overly distant and formal. _Talk_ to me," she asked. "We're not in class. This isn't a lecture on how to brew a volatile potion. You didn't use to have such a mental block about being open with me. What happened?"

His eyes glinted dangerously. "I do believe that's what I was trying to tell you," he sneered lightly.

"No, you're trying to reason your way out of a corner into which you've backed yourself without giving any real answers-," he cut her off with a snarl.

"What do you want me to tell you?" he demanded. "That I've distanced myself from you so as to prove to you and myself that I wasn't falling in love with my _student_? That I kissed you to prove to you that I _do_ feel something, however forbidden it may be?"

"That would be a start," Hermione was pale, but her voice was calm and steady.

"Bloody hell, Hermione, can you at least show the proper reaction to the thought?"

"I didn't realize there was a prescribed reaction to such an admission," she teased lightly. He eyed her incredulously. "What did you think I would do? You were shocked when you didn't get a rise out of me when you showed me the memory about using a pensieve, surely you've learned something by now."

"I'm your professor," he said quietly, almost pleadingly. Hermione struggled to reconcile this side of Snape with any other she had seen. He had gone from angry and cold to lost and confused in about fifteen minutes.

"Wrong; you were my professor at a school at which I am no longer a student and you, no longer a teacher." He scowled at her. "Why are you _looking_ for excuses against what you want?" she cried.

"Excuse me if _I_ have a normal sense of what is decent and proper unlike some…" he trailed off, muttering under his breath. And in a heartbeat, Hermione understood.

"You've told Dumbledore all of this, haven't you?" she surmised. "That morning when you went to go talk to him really early, shortly before you left to go find more phoenix tears…since then, you've been trying your hardest to _not_ like me. And that's why he's been so confused about how you've been behaving lately…" She paused. "So you're trying your best to find a reason that your feelings are impossible so that I don't get in trouble with Dumbledore?"

He paused and blinked at her a few times before giving a short bark of laughter. "That meddling codger…he said the same thing as you. And reiterated it when it became obvious that you were dropping out of Hogwarts and he would no longer be headmaster. He made it perfectly clear that he has no moral or professional obligation to object."

Hermione frowned. "So what's the problem then?"

"Don't you get it?" he exclaimed. "It's just not me. My life has been structured and disciplined for sixteen years and now…now that I'm free to feel something, I don't know how to do it. But if I succeeded in pushing you away, it wouldn't matter, you'd be so angry with me. But that hasn't worked. My only other hope was that Albus would yell at me and threaten to curse me within an inch of my life if I so much as laid a finger on you and instead…instead he laughs and asks what's taken so long!"

"Really?" she asked interestedly, only fueling his exasperation.

"Not exactly," he huffed. "He just said that he was surprised I hadn't come to the realization sooner."

"So, now what?" Hermione asked quietly.

He was silent for a long time. "Albus thinks that moving you to Grimmauld Place might not be a bad idea in light of my recent behavior."

"And what do you think?"

"I think that…I would be unhappy if you chose to do so."

"Good, because I don't want to." He looked at her sharply. "But," she held up a hand to stop his reply, "you have to promise me something. Stop fighting your feelings. No one else is."

He spoke up cautiously. "And…your feelings?"

She paused. "The best answer I can give you is that if you do as I've asked, I'll better be able to sort through them and figure them out. I care for you, you know that. I told you two weeks ago that I'd do something dangerous to myself if it helped you, without hesitation. But if you don't stop treating me as an unruly student caught after curfew, I won't be able to see you as more than my snarky professor," she smiled as she said this, and the tension he felt eased slightly. "However, if you insist on continuing to alienate me to avoid having to face your feelings…well, then I will take Professor Dumbledore's advice."

Snape looked horribly torn and conflicted, and Hermione's heart went out to him. She could see in his eyes all of the pain and confusion that was residual of decades of wrong or difficult choices, heartbreak, and fear. He was afraid of choosing poorly again, that was obvious. But the choice had to be his own.

She smiled lightly and encouragingly and stood up. She approached him tentatively and drew him into a brief but tight hug.

"Take some time to think," she whispered. "I'll be in my room, I have some reading to get done. When you decide if you'd like me to leave or stay, I'll be waiting."

She stood on tiptoes, leaned her head up, and placed a soft, chaste kiss on his cheek. Without another word, she left the room, leaving Snape alone with the Grimmauld Place library, his thoughts, and the feel of her kiss.

SCENESCENESCENESCENESCENESCENE

**A/N: What will he decide?!? Will he continue to push her away, despite the recent revelations and crumbling of his defenses? Or will he show his true feelings? For all this and more, look for the next chapter of What Once Was, coming to a fanfiction near you later this week! (I think- I'm pushing for Thursday)**

**Again, thanks for fabulous reviews. **

**I'm a little skeptical of this chapter- it's VERY different from the rest of the story. Almost strictly emotionally based, no diffusing crises and whatnot (which, I guess, was the point…he finally had to own up to it). Poor Snape, just doesn't now what to do. ;-P **

**Anyway, until next time…**

**Cheers!**


	16. Chapter 15

**A/N: Well, maybe not Thursday…but, ya know, two tests this past week kinda pushed writing aside :-( **

**Disclaimer: See prior, ya know…14 chapters…**

**Chapter 15**

Hermione sat for a few hours in her bed, reading about wizarding schools around the world. She'd gone through a phase of interest in other schools in Europe around the time of the Tri-Wizard tournament during their third year, but she'd yet to explore much further in research of the international wizarding community as a whole.

Of course, reading was rather serving the purpose of a distraction at the moment instead of any heartfelt quest for knowledge. She doubted that she'd retain much, as interesting as _Wizards in the New World: How Confundus Charms Failed to Prevent Westward Expansion_ might be.

So Snape had been behaving like a complete and total arse because he _liked_ her too much. If that didn't sound like primary school, she didn't know what did.

She supposed it was weird that she didn't find it…well, weird. Of course, a year ago, he would have received exactly the type of reaction he had expected. But honestly, after spending a year working together, living together, sometimes even sleeping in the same bed, did he expect her to view him from a strictly student standpoint? She had learned more about several aspects of Snape and, in fact, knew more about some of the sensitive parts of his past than most any besides Dumbledore did. He had saved her life and she had- kind of- saved his, and they had collaboratively brewed the most revolutionary potion of the century besides, perhaps, the Wolfsbane potion.

Maybe they'd outright cure lycanthropy next.

Hermione did her best to focus on the reading, but it wasn't long before a quiet knock made her tense up and catch her breath. _Well_, she thought, _that only took…three hours._

"Come in," she called softly, moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

Snape walked into the room. He had a neutral expression on his face, and he didn't quite meet her eyes. Hermione was pretty sure she knew what he'd say.

"Have a seat, Severus," she murmured, patting the space next to her. He hesitated for a moment, and then acquiesced, perching stiffly next to her.

"Hermione," he began quietly, "I'm sorry for all of the pain and confusion that this whole mess had caused."

Well, at least he'd called her by her given name as she'd asked.

"It's entirely my fault, of course," he went on. "If I'd not played the masochist and taken the appropriate measures to contain my feelings before they spiraled out of control, the incident which took place earlier today would have never occurred. You'd be none the wiser and happier for it, and I'd be happier for that."

She thought about interrupting, to point out that she _wasn't _unhappy knowing what she know knew. He seemed to have spent a good deal of time contemplating exactly what to say, however, and she thought it best to let him finish.

"You have to understand though; in my entire life, I've never had any sort of intimate relationship save one, and that one ended very painfully on both ends. The only thought worse than giving the idea of you up completely is the thought of hurting you in such a way."

Hermione's heart ached. She'd never known someone to be so jaded by the world.

She smiled sadly, reached over, and took his hand in hers. "I don't suppose that urging you to reconsider giving it another chance would do much good?"

"I've spent the last few hours trying to justify it to myself; I can not do it."

Hermione squeezed his hand and reflected on her own feelings. She was sad that he was sacrificing his own potential happiness because of the possibility of costing some of hers; but she was sad on a deeper level, and that made her wonder exactly how deep her feelings for Snape ran. Perhaps, when she hadn't been looking, they'd snuck up on her and made her care about him in such a way. It had never occurred to her, probably because he was the last person on earth she'd expect to reciprocate such a feeling. But now that he had…well, it seemed this would be more painful for her than he knew. But telling him that would make him that much more depressed, so she kept it to herself.

"So is that it then?" she asked.

He closed his eyes and spoke very reluctantly. "It is probably best if you take up residence at Grimmauld Place for now."

She opened her mouth to ask what exactly 'for now' meant, but was interrupted- for the second time that day- by a message-bearing patronus appearing suddenly in the room. It was a phoenix, and it spoke in Dumbledore's voice.

"Grimmauld Place, as soon as possible." Hermione suspected this was a mass message to the Order as a whole, not directed at her and Snape, as it was very impersonal.

Her chest tightened; given the earlier events, her first thought was of her parents. She shot Snape a look, but he looked bewildered.

Together, they moved to the hallway and apparated. A few others were arriving at nearly the same time, and they all proceeded to the large sitting room where Lupin, Dumbledore, and McGonagall were conversing in low tones in one corner. They waited a few more minutes while people still arrived, and then Dumbledore spoke up in a very somber tone. There was no trace of mirth in his expression.

"Minerva has some very sobering news for us all," he announced.

McGonagall stood up, and Hermione was alarmed to see that she had tears in her eyes. "Our soon-to-be Transfiguration professor, Clark Everitt, just came to find me to tell me that Chastity Burbage is dead. She's been murdered by You-Know-Who."

A collective gasp went around the room. Hermione closed her eyes in grief, feeling tears start to seep out from between her eyelids. True, she had only taken class with Professor Burbage for her third year, but she had been a great professor and a great witch who actually cared to equalize the situation for muggle-borns in the wizarding world. She was someone who had commanded Hermione's respect for many years now.

"I regret greatly that I did not anticipate this possibility," Dumbledore spoke again, and his voice did sound laden with grief.

"It's not your fault," Lupin countered firmly. "We're overstretched as it is."

"I hate to sound as though I'm dishonoring her death, but we must think quickly about the work that Chastity left behind," McGonagall sounded a bit nasally, as though she were trying to stem her grief.

"Don't be ridiculous; the best we could do for her memory is to continue her quest," Lupin told her. "It would be an insult otherwise."

"I'm afraid," Dumbledore said, "that we may have a problem continuing her work. Chastity accomplished a great deal in the last couple of weeks; she has been meeting with members of the American Ministry of Magic and arranging acceptance letters sent to would-be first years at Hogwarts. These were sent two days ago, and I suspect this is the cause of the sudden ire directed towards her."

"What if You-Know-Who goes after these first years?" Hermione could think of little that would be more tragic than their actions setting Voldemort on a group of unsuspecting eleven-year-olds and their families.

"I suspect the leak was interior, as I've taken measures to prevent the Ministry from accessing these names," Dumbledore said evenly. McGonagall drew a sharp breath.

"You've disturbed the Registry?" she asked. "Altered it? Albus…"

"It was essential," was his gracious reply.

"They'll call for your arrest for sure," Kingsley added with a warning tone.

"They will have little success," Dumbledore sounded amused. There was a small laugh around the room. "Our problem is, however, that Chastity did not finish her work; there are still six years worth of muggle-born students who will probably find out very soon that they are not to be allowed to return to Hogwarts. Letters traditionally go out tomorrow, the first of August, for returning students. We will know then."

"So where's the problem?" Hermione was confused.

He sighed. "Contacting all of these students discreetly will be a risky and time-consuming business. Furthermore, it will need to be someone whom the Hogwarts students can identify, know that they can trust. Chastity was a good fit for this role, but without her, I'm not sure who I can entrust it to. As Remus said, we're overstretched as it is."

"Another professor?" Bill Weasley suggested.

Dumbledore shook his head. "Even if they were not immediately hunted down, they would most definitely be blackmailed into resigning their post, and that is not a position in which we want to find ourselves. Furthermore, for safety's sake, I would not wish to give this job to someone outside of the Order; Chastity paid the price of weak protection, a fact which I greatly regret. Quite frankly though, I can not spare someone who works or has worked at Hogwarts; Minerva will be too busy with this coming year, Hagrid with the giants, Remus with the werewolves…Severus is obviously not an option…and I, unfortunately, have more pressing matters in the fight against Voldemort."

"I can do it," Hermione spoke simply. There was a few seconds silence as everyone turned to stare incredulously at her.

"You're too young," Molly Weasley smiled as though it were a joke. Hermione frowned.

"I'm almost eighteen, but what's age got to do with it?" she asked. "I'm a well-known _and_ trustworthy figure for Hogwarts students, having spent six years fighting You-Know-Who with Harry. I'm not a student anymore since I've decided to drop out, so really, I'm free to make my own decisions. I got past You-Know-Who _and_ a whole hill-full of death eaters in the spring, saved Harry and Ron's lives…with help, of course," she nodded her head in gratitude towards Snape, who scowled. "I can apparate, occlude, and duel halfway decently."

"You haven't even finished school!" Molly was adamant. "Professor Dumbledore, really…!"

"I could have passed all of my N.E.W.T.s by the time I took O.W.L.s," Hermione retorted sharply, surprising Harry and Ron; it was the first time she'd admitted to knowing as much as she did. "Look, Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall…you know me pretty well by know, so surely you don't think I'm about to let all of these students- my classmates- find themselves without a school this year? These children have been dragged from the only world they knew until the age of eleven and sent to a school that the outside world can not comprehend. In turn, they would be lost, especially the fifth and sixth years- fifteen and sixteen-year-olds who haven't had the same normal education as muggles their age? They're all horrendously uneducated in muggle subjects, and their only alternative after being kicked out of Hogwarts would be to return to school in the muggle world! It would ruin them!"

It was quiet as her words sunk in. Dumbledore and McGonagall both looked at her, sizing her up.

"You are obviously very passionate about this topic," Dumbledore said quietly. "And you're right, of course. It would be inexcusable on our part to let these students of ours to go without the education they were promised when they received their first letter."

"So I can take over Professor Burbage's work?" Hermione asked.

He exchanged a look with McGonagall. "Minerva and I will discuss this further," he promised. "We will let you know tonight. But understand what would be involved- not only would you need to meet with these students one-by-one discreetly, but you will also need to do so non-magically to avoid the Ministry getting wind of apparition in muggle neighborhoods; furthermore, you would need to work with Professor Everitt to make sure that the levels of his school- the Salem Co-Ed Academy- are comparable to Hogwarts and students are on the same page. Finally, you would need to meet with representatives from the American Ministry to arrange the transfer of these students. Since they have already begun school, it is a very different procedure than securing invitations for the incoming first-years was."

Hermione nodded. "I understand."

"Then I will let you know our decision as soon as it is made."

The meeting adjourned shortly thereafter, following a moment of silence for their fallen professor. Hermione sat with Harry and Ron, talking in low voices.

"You're mental," Ron said in awe. "Volunteering for that…"

"It's important," she retorted sharply.

"But what about…the other job?" Harry murmured very quietly. "We still have a long way to go."

"The four of you can handle it for now," Hermione smiled. "Between Dumbledore and Snape…I mean honestly, how much use can I really be? And my job will only be a couple weeks, I think. I mean, school starts in a month as it is."

Ginny joined them soon after that, so they talked about other things. Like what Hagrid was doing with the giants, for instance. Hermione hadn't really noted his absence since she spent so little time in Grimmauld Place- though that was about to change, she realized- but he hadn't been seen most of the summer.

It wasn't very long until McGonagall came and beckoned her, smiling. Hermione followed her into the kitchen where she and Dumbledore had been speaking.

"We've agreed that you may undertake this quest," she told her.

"But," Dumbledore held up a hand, "as this will be your first real experience doing work for the Order- and you are remarkably young, despite your accomplishments- I want constant updates. Anything that strikes you as even remotely suspicious, if you think you're being followed or in danger in some way, it is imperative that you get out of the situation and contact someone in the Order right away. Preferably not Mr. Potter or Mr. Weasley," he smiled faintly.

"You will come with me to Hogwarts tomorrow," McGonagall told her. "We will arrange to meet with Professor Everitt and further discuss the details of what you are to be doing. Understood?"

"I understand," she assured them, and took her leave. She found Harry and Ron again, and told them what had transpired.

"Anyway, I'm sorry your birthday has been such a fiasco," she finally said half an hour later as she was preparing to leave. She still had an unfinished conversation with Professor Snape, after all. "But at least your of age!" she grinned.

"I'm not sure it's worth it after all," he muttered, but smiled.

When she apparated back to Prince Manor, she was surprised to hear voices coming from the sitting room. She was further surprised that they sounded rather heated. She walked slowly towards the room, and considered drawing her wand, before she recognized the voices as Snape's and Dumbledore's.

"…can't honestly be telling me that you're letting her go through with this?"

"She made a reasonable case for it, Severus."

"That doesn't mean that she's capable of carrying it through!"

"Severus!" Dumbledore really sounded angry now. "On what basis do you really think I have the power to stop her from doing as she pleases? She's legally an adult, and no longer my student, or a student at all! She can do what she wants, and it's only her respect for the Order and its members that prevents her from realizing that she doesn't need my permission, or Minerva's, to go help her muggle-born classmates! There is nothing keeping her here, or at Grimmauld Place, and if you don't stop treating her as a child, she'll leave out of resentment!"

"Well I'll be damned-," he was interrupted by a soft voice.

"Excuse me, Professor Snape," Hermione said quietly and dangerously. "But I think you relinquished whatever small role you had on my actions earlier tonight when you told me it would be best if I moved out of your house." Her voice was nearly shaking with fury.

Snape paled, realizing perhaps that he'd overstepped a boundary. Dumbledore turned sharply to look at him.

"Severus?"

"I can see I am to be overruled," he spoke silkily. "Do excuse me- I have some work to do downstairs. Miss Granger, if you require any assistance in moving your things, let me know." From the sound of his voice, Hermione judged that it would be safer to poke a sleeping dragon.

And then he was gone. Hermione stood staring after him, jumping when Dumbledore placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Miss Granger?" he asked concernedly. "Are you alright? Is there anything I can do for you? Talk about?"

"No, sir, thank you," she said flatly. "I'll just go get my things so I can move them to Ginny's room."

And she was gone, contemplating the entire way on just how turned around her life had become in the last several hours.

SCENESCENESCENESCENESCENE

**A/N: Well, I know some of you want to kill me right now. 0:-) But of course, what kind of author would I be otherwise? :P **

**Sorry again for being late…I'm worried about posting delays for the next while…I'm going on a long weekend next weekend to El Paso to visit a certain special someone…so there will be no writing then… I shall do my best though and, as always, I'm jotting things down and formulating things in my head, so they shall type themselves faster when I do get back to the computer. I do hope to get two more chapters up before next Thursday though (that's when I leave…once Thursday is gone, don't expect anything from me until at least the following Tuesday)…just fyi. **

**Cheers!**


	17. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: Unless I missed something, it still belongs to JK Rowling**

**Chapter 16**

Hermione woke early the next morning and readied herself quietly, so as not to wake Ginny. She met McGonagall downstairs and they flooed to her office at Hogwarts where Professor Everitt was to meet them in another half hour.

"Our fears were confirmed today," McGonagall pursed her lips. "Letters went out only to those students who have a clear magical relation on one or both sides of the family, within three generations. Happily," she continued as she pulled a list from her desk, "this has eliminated a couple students off of the list who are children or grandchildren of squibs, but it still leaves…thirty-five students who have been completely banned from returning."

Thirty-five…well that was actually fewer than Hermione had been anticipating, so that wasn't too bad. And if she could get in touch with all of them in the next couple of days by owl and arrange to meet…she figured she could easily do it in a week.

Hermione perused the list; she knew most of these students already, which would make visiting them much easier. Next to each name was an address, as well as the location of the nearest safe apparition point, and its distance from the child's home.

"We keep tabs of these things for when a school official has to go explain to the family about Hogwarts and their child's magical abilities. It will make your task much easier, I daresay. Bear in mind though: outside of that apparition spot, you can not risk the use of magic. If the Ministry detects magic being used in a muggle neighborhood, you will be faced with many more questions than are desirable. Remember what happened with Mr. Potter when he drove off the dementors in Little Whinging two years ago."

Hermione wasn't likely to forget that anytime soon.

"They are also grouped geographically, if you look here," McGonagall pointed to the list again, "As you can see, many live in the greater London area and within the same apparition spots. You will want to remember this when planning how to go about this."

There was a sharp knock at the door. "Come in," McGonagall called, and a tea pot began to pour three cups. A thin, short man with sandy hair opened the door, started to walk in, and then stopped upon seeing Hermione.

"Oh, I'm sorry to interrupt…"

"Not at all," McGonagall said briskly. "Clark, this is Hermione Granger. Hermione, Clark Everitt, our new Defense instructor."

Hermione stood up and shook his hand. He looked slightly awed.

"How do you do?" he asked. "I have, of course, heard of you," he smiled as he took the seat next to her and graciously accepted a cup of tea, "though I was not expecting to see you around here, given the unfortunate circumstances which have brought me to Hogwarts."

"It's actually because of Hermione that I asked you to meet today," McGonagall said gently. "She's going to take over Chastity's work." Hermione caught a flicker of sadness in Everitt's face, but he quickly mastered his emotions. "Which means that the two of you will be working together for a couple of weeks."

He looked pleasantly surprised. "Excellent, I've actually just finished going over the curricula of our schools to determine the strengths and weaknesses of each level and each class…perhaps Miss Granger here can help affirm or correct my assertions?"

"Yes, why don't the two of you head down to your office, Clark," McGonagall suggested. "And Hermione? Do let me know before you leave the school, will you?"

She assured her that she would, and then followed Everitt out into the hallway and down to the Defense classroom, at the far end of which was the office.

"So how do you like Hogwarts, Professor Everitt?"

"Please, Clark," he smiled at her. "No need for graduates to call me 'professor' when I didn't even teach them," he laughed.

"Oh, I'm not a graduate," she assured him, "just a dropout."

"Ah…" he looked vaguely confused. "I'm sorry then. Minerva did not indicate you were to be one of those relocating, so I merely assumed you have just completed your Hogwarts education."

"No, I am sorry to say that I have only just completed my sixth year," she told him. "But I will not go to the United States now. As long as You-Know-Who is attempting to take over here, here is where my business will remain."

He looked at her appraisingly. "Very well then," he inclined his head respectfully. "In any case, from what I've heard, there is little I could teach you, you seem to have gotten along quite well on your own against Voldemort."

"Oh, there's always more to be learned," she laughed. "You obviously haven't heard too much about me yet. However, I will call you Clark if you will please not call me 'Miss Granger.' I am tired of six years of 'Miss Granger.'"

If only he knew just how tired.

"Well then, Hermione, to answer your question, I am quite enamored of Hogwarts. It certainly has a medieval charm which Salem lacks. I can see now quite clearly why everyone who has ever had the chance to study here or even just visit speaks of the school with such reverence."

Hermione was fairly certain that she would get along quite well with Clark Everitt.

SCENESCENESCENESCENESCENE

Hermione returned to Grimmauld Place after several hours of discussion, not all of which was entirely related to muggle-borns at Hogwarts. She found it refreshing to have the chance to actually interact with someone new, after being cooped up with the Order all the time.

Her first order of business was to draft letters to each of the thirty-five students. This was quite easily done actually; once she wrote the first one, she had it magically copy itself thirty-four times, and she only had to alter the time and date which she requested those families to be available for her to stop by. She spent a great deal of time working that part out- she wanted to be as efficient as possible in this task, and so she made very sure to group the days as geographically as possible.

Once that was complete, she returned to Hogwarts, where she took full use of the owlery. Some of the birds seemed mildly perplexed at having so many letters in the middle of summer, but eventually she got each attached to one's leg, and her letters were off. Step one was complete.

Their responses would come back to Hogwarts, starting tomorrow she hoped. Next week then, she would go talk to each student and determine if they did, in fact, wish to travel to America to continue their wizarding education. To keep things as level as possible for these students, Everitt had gone through last year's curricula for each level of each class and compared each to the levels that the corresponding grade level had reached at the Salem Co-Ed Academy. And so, Hermione would also have to give each student who decided to travel abroad a basic rundown of what subjects to study in the last few weeks of summer so they would be on the same level. For instance, Hogwarts fifth years were a great deal ahead in Potions and Charms, but very behind in Defense Against the Dark Arts, as a result of years of inconsistent and often downright bad instruction.

Making it, perhaps, easier was the fact that Dumbledore had set up funding for travel overseas. Hermione wondered again briefly where Dumbledore got all this money- but then she stopped and considered that finding twelve uses for dragon's blood, and working in the field of alchemy were probably very lucrative. Then she wondered just how rich her and Snape would be if they went public with their new potion and smiled to herself. And then she scowled, thinking about Snape.

"You look deep in thought."

Hermione looked up, startled. Indeed, she had been lost in her ponderings as she meandered slowly through the halls of the castle on her way to the Room of Requirement where she would floo back once more.

"It's been an odd summer," she smiled wryly.

"So I've gathered," Everitt frowned. "Though from what I've heard, it's been an odd several years around here. We have the good fortune to have little cause to worry about Voldemort, where I'm from. And things like blood status tend to not rile as many people. I hate to say it, but British wizards strike me as oddly old-fashioned."

She thought about that for a minute. "It's the tradition… I think," she grinned. "We like things to remain the same even while the world around is advancing and growing…the history of wizarding education in Britain is a thousand years old, the oldest organized form in the world. How do you know what's sacred and what can go?"

"It surprises me to hear you say that," he admitted. "I would think a muggle-born would be less inclined to respect that tradition that results in her persecution."

"I understand it; I didn't say I agree with it."

"Touché."

"In any case, I actually should be on my way…Professor Dumbledore doesn't like me being on my own for too long…Hogwarts dropout and all," she smirked. "I'll be back tomorrow though to pick up responses from my letters. Will I be seeing you?"

"Absolutely- next, we have to talk about your meeting with the American education ministers."

"Of course." Hermione paused, not sure how to word what she wanted to say. "Look…I just wanted to say that I'm sorry about Professor Burbage," she said quietly. "I didn't know her well…I was only in her class in my third year…but she was always someone I looked up to. Anyway, I know you were friends, and I just wanted to express how awfully I feel about what happened."

He was silent for a few moments. "Thank you," he finally murmured. "She was indeed an extraordinary witch. But she died bravely, it seems, and for a cause she believed in very strongly. She couldn't have asked for more, I think."

They shook hands again and parted. As she reached the Room of Requirement, Hermione thought back to Everitt's words, and wondered if the relationship between the two hadn't been more than Professor Dumbledore had let on.

Hermione liked Everitt a lot. In fact, she was starting to regret that she'd never be able to attend classes with him. She suspected he was a good instructor.

At Grimmauld Place, she ate dinner with the usual crowd and then was dragged upstairs by Harry and Ron. Expecting some discussion about horcruxes or muggle-borns, she was actually quite taken aback by their topic of inquiry.

"So, not that we're complaining or anything, but _why_ exactly did you move into Ginny's room?"

She'd done her best to avoid this conversation last night as she was still rather livid about Snape and his double standards on wanting to distance her except when he could interfere in her actually attempting to be helpful.

She sighed. "We just thought that, since I'm taking on Professor Burbage's work, it's probably better if I'm more accessible to the Order as a whole." It wasn't in the slightest true, but she thought it sounded pretty good.

"Who's we?" Ron asked. She shrugged.

"Professor Dumbledore…Professor Snape…myself."

"So are you not helping Snape out any more with the potion then?" Harry looked perplexed. "I mean, wasn't that the whole idea of you living there again this summer…?"

"The whole idea was that I could run his lab when he was out of the country finding more phoenix tears. Now that's done, and if he needs any more help, he can ask for it."

It occurred to her that she probably sounded a little bitter; indeed, Harry and Ron exchanged confused glances, but Hermione didn't care. Life was complicated, and everyone didn't need to understand everything all the time.

Well, except for her.

SCENESCENESCENESCENESCENESCENE

The next day, Hermione took lunch with McGonagall and Everitt, perusing the responses that had arrived. There were about a dozen of them, she noted, and they looked pretty promising. She'd given enough notice that they could plan their schedules accordingly to her visit. When they finished eating, McGonagall left again to go to her own work, leaving Hermione and Everitt to work in his office again.

"So how did you end up with this job?" Everitt asked curiously. He looked as though it were something he'd been wondering about, but hadn't wanted to ask yet. "I mean, obviously you're very intelligent and organized, and extremely passionate about it. It just seems an odd choice though, you being young as you are…?"

"Oh…" Hermione thought how best to answer that. "Professor Dumbledore was worried about to whom to entrust it; it would have to be someone students would recognize, but someone well-protected against You-Know-Who and the death eaters, so as to avoid any further tragedies in the quest."

"Are you well-protected?" he asked, seeming genuinely concerned. But then he smiled. "But of course you are. You're Harry Potter's friend. You're also part of their club, their anti-Voldemort group, aren't you?"

"I…what?" Hermione was startled.

"The Order of the Phoenix is not an unknown entity," he reminded her. "They were largely responsible for resistance against him the last time, though of course you were barely born when he was defeated. It does not take a genius to guess that Professor Dumbledore has reinstated it this time. I've seen the discretion among certain members of staff when we've all met together, always careful what to say around whom…"

"It's probably best that we not talk about this," Hermione frowned.

"But of course. I'm sorry," he apologized sincerely. "I did not intend to pry. I actually meant to bring up the topic of the wider resistance to Voldemort in relation to our eventual meeting with the American Ministry to ensure the smooth transfer of your muggle-born students."

"What do you mean?"

"There is…believe it or not…a wizarding affairs bureau in the American embassy in London," he told her, "under a different name of course. It is there that you will eventually discuss this matter and submit the names of these thirty-five students, who are essentially going to be considered refugees. The thing is, there are some who would fight against allowing these students to attend American wizarding schools."

"Whatever for?" Hermione cried, remembering that he'd said that blood status _wasn't_ such a big deal in America.

"They're afraid it will start a panic," he said simply. "Many try to downplay the seriousness of the situation here so as not to scare people overseas. By sending a mass of students to school at Salem…it sends a pretty clear message about what's going on over here. There are certain people though who have been here longer, have seen what Voldemort can do to this country, who will be much more amiable to your cause. It is with them I will be trying to meet."

Understanding dawned on her. "So finding those who are most willing to fight You-Know-Who will help us even with this?"

He nodded. "Why don't you use his name?" he asked. "You don't strike me as the type to buy into this 'You-Know-Who' nonsense."

She opened her mouth to reply that it was just habit, but then stopped. "I used to call him Voldemort," she murmured, thinking. "I stopped though."

"Why?"

"A friend asked me to." That wasn't entirely true. Snape had outright ordered her to and then become _very_ angry when she had further goaded him about it.

"Ah. Well my apologies, but that friend is lacking in certain mental faculties."

Hermione grinned.

"So he is."

SCENESCENESCENESCENESCENE

**A/N: Yay. I'm hopeful for another chapter tomorrow or Tuesday night. :-) **

**So, a little break in 'Hermione gets along with Snape…Hermione and Snape are fighting…Hermione and Snape make up...' I hope you enjoyed it, even though Snape didn't make an appearance except in some verbal references. **

**Until next time,**

**Cheers!**


	18. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: Wait…is it…hold on…oh yeah. I'm not making money. **

**Chapter 17**

As the days passed and Hermione continued to make arrangements for the next week, something else of notable excitement happened within the ranks of the Order: the first sizeable batch of their potion was completed and distributed among the members. Everyone received a small vial on a chain with instructions to drink without hesitation at the sense of an oncoming altercation. Hermione felt very proud to finally see the fruits of a year's work with Snape come to bear, though she did feel a bit guilty, not having partaken in the final steps. Then again, she'd run the lab in his absence, so she supposed that she'd done her share.

"Traditionally," Dumbledore said to a large group of them, "one names a new potion after either its creator or its purpose; in this case, we can do neither, as both are still in need of a bit of secrecy. However, we," here Snape raised his eyebrows skeptically, "very well- I- have decided to give this a temporary name of 'Grape' potion."

"Grape?" Harry asked, nonplussed, eyeing the bottle.

"Granger-Snape. Grape."

Hermione laughed delightedly and Snape scowled further.

"It sounds like a children's drink," he muttered. Hermione smiled lightly and approached him once the crowd has dispersed.

"Congratulations…professor," she said quietly.

He nodded his head jerkily in acceptance. "And you."

Before either could say anything else, Dumbledore came striding pleasantly into their midst. "Ah, Miss Granger, I wonder if you might do me a favor?" He handed her an extra vial. "Minerva tells me that you and Professor Everitt are getting on quite nicely…perhaps you would be so kind as to give him this and explain the essential, finer points of what it is?"

"Oh! Of course," Hermione tucked it into the folds of her robe, "I'd be delighted. I was actually getting ready to head over there after lunch." It was Friday, and she had to make last minute adjustments to her schedule for the following week- she'd received replies from all thirty-five students or their families, amazingly; now she just had to meet them and explain _why_ exactly they weren't allowed to return to school.

"Many thanks, my dear," Dumbledore turned and went back to the larger group of people. Hermione turned back to Snape- but he was gone, the door to the entry-way still swinging shut behind him.

SCENESCENESCENESCENESCENESCENESCENE

"This is…what, exactly?"

Everitt eyed the small bottle incredulously. Hermione smiled patiently.

"A potion which will protect you from the less desirable effects of the killing curse."

"Death, you mean?" he sounded bemused.

"Indeed."

"And um…where did it come from?"

"Ask me no questions, I shall tell you no lies," Hermione teased. "Obviously it's not on the market yet, we're trying to keep it a bit of a secret for a little while longer."

"And we is...?"

She just smiled winningly, and he sighed. "I guess you lot are doing the thing properly this time around, aren't you? You have potions which are beyond even the wildest dreams of most of the world's potions masters…you have the supposed 'chosen one'…and you managed to baffle the Ministry at the highest levels." Hermione shot him an inquisitive look. "Oh, haven't you seen today's _Daily Prophet_?" he asked.

"I've been else wise occupied," she admitted. "What does it say?"

"To sum up, it says that Albus Dumbledore has undermined the very fabric of wizarding society by committing one of the direst criminal acts."

"Oh, is that all?" Hermione scoffed. "And what crime was it exactly that they say he's committed?"

"Oh, there's not doubt that he's done it. He's altered the registry of magical births."

"Ah…" Hermione remembered how flustered McGonagall had been when she realized what Dumbledore had done.

"Yes. He's somehow split it into two separate lists- one of muggle-borns, one of pure and partial bloods. Except the muggle-born list is, obviously, not there, and the Ministry can not figure out how to access those names."

"It says all of this in the article?" Hermione was skeptical.

"Not in as many words. All they're saying is that he's changed it and very well may be preventing students from receiving their appropriate invitations. But, of course, what they really want to do is get a hold of the muggle-born list to ensure that those students are _not_ receiving a magical education of any sort." Everitt paused. "No, they've done a very thorough job of alienating Dumbledore in the eyes of the public. Not that he's done or said much to defend himself," he looked suddenly suspicious.

"He also has pressing matters outside of Hogwarts," Hermione reasoned. "He felt it was beneficial to resign without further altercation." Everitt held up a hand to stop her though, looking deep in thought.

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Hermione was confused, and finally went to speak up when Everitt beat her to it.

"Severus Snape wasn't Voldemort's. He's still alive." Hermione gaped but couldn't form proper words to confirm or deny it. "Ah, but that makes so much more sense."

"What on earth led you to believe that?" she finally found her voice.

"Why, this potion sitting in front of me, of course!" he exclaimed as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "There were few who paralleled the caliber of potion brewer that Severus Snape was; I find it hard to believe that Dumbledore has another in his arsenal. And if that's true, it means that Voldemort thought he killed him which means Snape must have been using this potion at the time, perhaps as a test even. Not wanting to admit the existence of the potion, Dumbledore went along with the death story and was, therefore, forced to accept everything else that was said about his allegiances."

He got all of that just from being handed a potion?

Everitt looked at her carefully guarded and wary expression. "I'm sorry. There I go again, making you uncomfortable by talking too much about what you've been told to hold secret- or perhaps, if I'm right, this is an even greater secret than you are aware of?- We academics do like to test out our little theories though; by all means, do not feel obligated to respond to it."

Hermione smiled faintly and did not reply. She did, however, make a mental note to discuss this with Professor Dumbledore; after all, if Everitt made that leap just from one small prompt, what was to say that someone else- say, Madam Bones- wouldn't do the same?

SCENESCENESCENESCENESCENESCENE

"The man is rather too sharp for his own good," Dumbledore looked amused as Hermione finished recanting the story of her conversation with Everitt. "Happily, he stands as much to lose as any of the rest of us if the truth is made known yet; he will not share his suspicions with any outside of my confidence, and he knows who those are."

"Was I wrong not to deny it outright though?" Hermione asked anxiously.

Dumbledore looked thoughtful. "No," he said slowly, "I think not. You have not lied, nor have you spoken the truth on the matter. Clark still has deniability over it." He looked her over for a moment. "How have you been holding up this week?" he asked kindly. "You haven't found your work to be beyond your abilities?"

"Oh, not at all," she assured him. "And Professor Everitt has been helping me, too. Everything is all arranged for me to visit all the families this coming week. Between Monday and Sunday I'm to meet with five a day, and then Professor and Everitt and I are arranging to meet an education minister at the American ministry that Tuesday. That should take care of everything."

"Excellent!" he beamed. "Well done, Miss Granger. As always, don't hesitate to request any assistance you may need from others within the Order, your safety is the primary concern."

Hermione assured him that she was being very careful but, as it was wont to do, her mind wandered towards Snape. She didn't think she'd be able to live it down if something went awry and someone else had to come bail her out of trouble, after the fight he'd put up to prevent her from going in the first place.

SCENESCENESCENESCENESCENESCENE

The next week passed Hermione by in a whirlwind of busy activity. She found it wasn't too difficult to get around- her usual over-planning ensured that she always knew where and when she was going, and how to get from one place to another. Sometimes, houses were within walking distance of the closest apparition point. Other times, the safest means of transportation seemed muggle cabs, something she was sure would trip up most members of the wizarding community. Happily, she had no problems using muggle money.

The meetings themselves were difficult- often confused and frightened, parents sometimes didn't understand the quarrel in the wizarding world over blood. It was especially a problem with younger students who didn't understand it themselves. In the end though, it was each child's love of Hogwarts and the wizarding world that made them unwilling to forsake it completely, and they all wanted to continue their magical education. Hermione did her best to sound hopeful that they would be able to return to Hogwarts in a year or maybe two.

One of her last meetings of the week was the one Hermione was looking most forward to; Dean Thomas was one of few muggle-borns* she knew well, and she expected he would be easier to talk to than, say, the Creevey brothers.

"Hermione! Blimey, what are you doing here? Are you the 'Hogwarts Official'?"

He was smiling as he pulled her into his house and invited her to sit down with him and his mother.

"Something like that," she admitted. "Unfortunately, it's not happy news that brings me here."

Dean's face changed to a grim seriousness. "I'm not surprised," he said. "I've been keeping up with the news…everything with Dumbledore, and the Ministry. Not to mention everything that happened last term, especially for you and Harry and Ron. I also noticed that Hogwarts letters didn't come as usual," he hinted.

Hermione grimaced. "No," she said sadly, "and yours won't."

"Oh?"

"It's not just a new Minister of Magic," she explained, "he's Voldemort's puppet. They've discredited Professor Dumbledore, they can do what they want now…and one of those things is to limit admittance to Hogwarts based upon blood status."

He looked downtrodden, but Dean took everything in stride and truly seemed appreciative of the efforts to help muggle-borns.

"Will I be seeing you in Salem then?" he grinned at her.

"No, actually. I'm sticking it out here, with Harry."

"Suppose I should have guessed."

They parted on friendly terms, leaving Hermione feeling ultimately pretty good about the task as a whole. She'd met with all thirty-five students in seven days, and each and every one of them was to continue their education abroad. Furthermore, she'd encountered no problems, and for that, she was very grateful.

The last part of ensuring a successful transfer of these students was to get the final approval for the thirty-five to attend Salem next month. Everitt had been heading this part of the project while she was meeting the families, and he'd arranged their meeting with the available minister who struck him as most likely to be sympathetic to their cause.

And so it was that, on Tuesday, Hermione apparated with Everitt to London. As they walked down Tottenham Court Road, he expressed a passing thought that perhaps they should take some of their potion now.

They turned down a side street, and were approaching the muggle embassy. "Honestly, what are the chances that Voldemort would actually risk attacking in such a muggle part of London though?" she asked, but drank a dose nonetheless.

Strangely enough, the directory actually had a listing for 'Wizarding Affairs Bureau,' though Hermione suspected that this read something completely different and mundane for non-magical people.

They approached the lift to take them to the sixth floor, pushed the call button…and nothing happened. Giving no indication that it was out of order, Hermione found this more than a little strange, and shot Everitt a quizzical look. He shrugged and located the stairs. More cautiously now, hands tucked inside their muggle jackets on their wands, they walked in that direction…when suddenly all noise of the lobby ceased.

It was a deafening silence, the kind that only results of the sudden and absolute silence of a _silencio_ charm. Hermione and Everitt took back-to-back, wands drawn as discreetly as possible, and surveyed the scene before them.

Yet there was nothing unusual about it, besides the total silence. No one took any notice of them and, indeed, their corner was rather isolated. _Muggle-repelling charms_, Hermione thought. They'd been herded into this area on purpose and now were most likely beyond help. The same charms that kept the muggles from walking over here probably prevented them from seeing what was truly going on.

"Any ideas?" she muttered over her shoulder.

"Is it possible that this is normal?" he murmured back.

"Wouldn't we have been warned?"

"Point."

"I'm definitely not a fan of going _up_. We'll only trap ourselves further. We can try to leave…?" Hermione was now very glad at the suggestion of taking their potions.

"Not so fast, my dear Miss Granger." Hermione froze as the low, smooth voice sounded in the otherwise silent atrium. She turned to the sound of the voice and silently tried to cast a stunning spell…but he was too fast for her. She shielded herself quickly, the rebounding spell crashing into the shield. "My, my…" Lucius Malfoy observed her amusedly. "Someone's taught you a bit about dueling." Everitt attempted a _stupefy_ spell himself, but met with the same result. Malfoy then turned his wand back to Hermione.

"_Crucio_."

Once had been quite enough for her, she knew, as she lay groaning afterwards on the floor. She took advantage of the short time that Malfoy was occupied subduing Everitt to weigh her options. She could try to stun Malfoy, but suspected he had backup. Getting a message to the Order seemed more important.

She was not fast enough. Her patronus was stopped before it was fully formed. She was disarmed and dragged to her feet.

"Now, now…who could we be sending a message to?" he circled to face her as two masked death eaters appeared from elsewhere beyond Hermione's view. "No matter. They won't get it."

He snapped his fingers and they were both grabbed by one of the other death eaters. Together, the five disapparated (Hermione and Everitt by force) and reappeared outside a set of wrought-iron gates. Malfoy held up his forearm, displaying the dark mark. Recognizing this symbol, the gates opened of their own accord, and the two were dragged for several hundred yards up a long, winding path towards a huge mansion. This forced march gave Hermione some time to think. How did they know where they'd be? Was someone within the embassy keeping them apprised of the situation? Had they caught wind of the plan with the muggle-borns? Was Draco here? He could get a message to the Order, she hoped… did they know who Everitt was?

They reached the house and Malfoy stepped aside in mock courteousness.

"Welcome to Malfoy Manor."

They were taken downstairs, through a narrow, dark passage, and to a large, empty room, into which they were shoved quite unceremoniously.

"Find my son," Malfoy snapped over his shoulder to one of the masked figures. He disappeared and Malfoy turned his attention back to his captives.

"Ah, Hermione Granger. You have been quite the enigma to the Dark Lord these many months. Indeed, to myself as well. I have had trouble reconciling in my mind the image of you, powerful and in control, escaping with your two friends…against those times I saw you, meek and quiet, slave to Severus's each and every whim…" he sighed almost wistfully, a hand at her cheek. "I can promise you though, there will be no apparating out of this house."

He turned now to Everitt who was looking at Hermione in poorly-masked confusion.

"But you, I don't know," he confessed. "Not one of Dumbledore's usual lackeys. What is your name?" Everitt was silent. "You don't want to try me," Malfoy said warningly. Everitt raised a skeptical brow. "_Crucio_." Hermione cringed as Everitt fell and screamed.

"Your name?"

"Merlin."

"_Crucio! _Your name?"

"Tom Riddle."

"_Crucio!_"

"Harry Potter."

Malfoy did not cast the spell again. Instead, he turned a predatory eye towards Hermione. He summoned the other death eater who remained. "Grab her," he commanded. "Take her down the hall."

Hermione didn't bother to struggle much, knowing it would do her no good. Before they made it out the door though, Everitt spoke up.

"Wait! No, leave her, please. Take me. It's Everitt- Clark Everitt."

"And how are you and Miss Granger here acquainted?"

"I've been hired as the new Defense professor at Hogwarts."

Malfoy pondered this for a moment. "Good to know," he said mildly and, with a haughtily mocking look at Everitt, departed the room with Hermione and the other death eater.

SCENESCENESCENESCENESCENE

*Harry Potter wiki says that Dean is half-blood but unable to prove it- his father left his mother at a young age- Hermione presumably would not know this

**A/N: Uh-oh. Silly Hermione…like she'd get through two weeks of being on her own outside of Grimmauld Place and **_**not**_** get kidnapped… :P **

**Whatever shall happen next?!? **

**Side note- I'm teasing out a couple of ways to write the next chapter…but I may not be able to get away with leaving it below an 'M' rating if I go a certain way. Nothing definite…but just a warning in advance…**

**Until then,**

**Cheers!**


	19. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: Well. Sadly, I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, Snape would not have died…well, maybe he would have. But so would've Harry (but Voldemort as well, of course). Anything to get rid of that epilogue. But I digress. **

**Chapter 18**

Hermione was shoved roughly into another empty room…it seemed the Malfoy's had converted at least part of the lower levels of their house into a sort of dungeon, a fact on which Hermione did not particularly wish to dwell. The masked death eater left at a signal from Malfoy, who stepped into the room and closed the door. He took a few steps towards her, wand raised. She backed into the wall, bracing herself for the _cruciatus_ curse.

It never came. Instead, to her surprise, he put his wand away. She looked up at him in confusion.

"Now, Miss Granger, we are two sensible adults," he purred. "Surely there is no need for any of that…_unpleasantness_, hm?" He approached her slowly. "You can tell me just what I want to know and I can do my best to make sure that your experience here is brief and minimally painful."

"I thought that was Voldemort's decision," Hermione spat, enjoying the flash in Malfoy's eyes at hearing his master's name spoken aloud.

He grabbed her by the throat, firmly but without cutting off her breathing entirely. "I'm afraid," he murmured close by her ear, "that he is out of the country and for the duration of his absence, that happy power lies with me, to decide what and when to do with you."

He released her and backed away. She slumped against the wall gasping, massaging her throat.

"Let us start with your friend down the hall. Clark, was it?" She eyed him stonily. "He says he is a new Hogwarts professor. Is this true?"

She saw little point in denying it. "Yes."

"And how did you come to be with him today?" Silence. "In the American Embassy, of all places?"

"We were planning a vacation together."

Malfoy's expression went quickly back to enraged frustration. He reached into the folds of his robe, and Hermione again expected the _cruciatus_ curse. She did not expect him to pull a small, sharp, brutal-looking knife. She eyed it, suddenly much more wary than she would have been had he pulled his wand on her. She also was confused- if Malfoy had no clue why they were in London, how had he found them?

"Ah, not so eager to mouth off now, are we?" he asked dangerously. She was spared a response by a sharp tap at the door. He re-sheathed the knife and opened it.

Draco stood there looking bored. "Ah, Draco, do come in!" Malfoy exclaimed in malicious delight. "Look who we have as a new guest!"

His eyes widened almost imperceptibly and Hermione detected a quick flicker of fear and dismay before he covered it. "Granger," he sneered. He turned to his father. "Surely our lord will be most pleased that we finally have her."

"So he shall. But he is busy at the moment, I see no need to worry him on the matter quite yet. I wonder though- are your mother and aunt around?"

Hermione's heart sped up a little; she had little experience with Bellatrix Lestrange, but from what she had seen and heard, that wasn't an encounter she would come out of unscathed. Granted, she realized, this one wasn't shaping up too well for her part either.

"I think they have left on some task or another," Draco answered slowly. Perhaps he shared Hermione's fears of letting his aunt too close to her.

"Hm. Well send them a message," Malfoy ordered. "I would hate for them to miss out on this wonderful occasion. But Draco," he added, "do take your time. You know how Bella likes to hog the fun."

"Of course," Draco muttered, sparing a quick, desperate glance at Hermione.

"Once you've done that, you can go visit our other guest down the hall, if you'd like," Malfoy instructed off-handedly. "I daresay Miss Granger will occupy me for some time," his eyes raked across her. "She looks like she still has some fight left in her."

Luckily his father was too occupied to notice the fearful look in Draco's eyes as he hurriedly backed out of the room. As Lucius turned back to her though, Hermione was somewhat reassured- surely Draco would get a message to the Order right away.

Her relief was short-lived. Soon enough, the knife was back in Malfoy's hand and he was again approaching her.

"Now," he whispered, moving her hair from the side of her neck, "let's continue our little discussion, shall we?" He slowly followed the line of the curve of her jaw, down under her ear with the knife. He wasn't pressing hard enough to draw blood, but she could feel it scraping threateningly at her skin.

"Go to hell."

He pressed harder. It hurt. Hermione gasped in pain and felt a trickle of blood seep down her collarbone into her blouse.

"I could just kill you now," he murmured, face almost touching hers as her admired his handiwork.

Hermione laughed derisively. "No, you couldn't. You're not allowed to do whatever you want, are you? You're a puppet, forced to obey the whims of your 'lord' and 'master.' How wonderfully antiquated."

In retrospect, pushing him too hard too fast might not have been such a brilliant scheme, she thought as she gasped through the pain, trying to analyze the damage. He'd slid the knife down her arm, cutting straight through her shirt. As her mind cleared, she judged that it wasn't deep or life-threatening- just long; it ran from her collar halfway to her elbow.

"Good, good," Malfoy murmured. "It's better that there's a little visible evidence of the pain you suffered before you were killed. It will give your friends more to consider when your body is delivered."

Hermione, had she not been in quite so much pain, might have found the situation a tad ironic. He could have fired killing curse after killing curse at her to no avail.

"I'll ask again, shall I? By all means though, continue to resist," he grabbed her injured arm forcefully and she could not hold back a small cry. He spun her and, twisting her arm behind her, forced her front-first into the wall. "I find your defiance charming, and your screams delightful." She shuddered, feeling his warm breath against her neck, a fact that he found entertaining. "Oh, you find me repulsive, perhaps?" he held the knife against one side of her face, forcing her to turn her head towards his. "But my dear, you have suffered worse than this at Severus's hands, have you not? Even Draco's…don't forget, I was there…saw you helpless to his power. But really, he was rather efficient and quick about it."

He grabbed her by the throat once more.

"I will not be so merciful."

* * *

Everitt sat on the floor of his 'cell,' feeling positively wretched. Was this his fault? Had he somehow given away their mission, brought Voldemort's cronies down on their heads? And now they'd left him to sit and twiddle his thumbs and taken Hermione…well, Merlin knew where…but Everitt had definitely not liked the look in Malfoy's eye when he'd decided to take her away.

Time passed, he couldn't be sure of how long- twenty minutes, thirty? He was fairly sure that it wasn't more than a half an hour though, when the door opened. He looked up in surprise- and met the darkest, most infuriated eyes he had seen in some time.

"Everitt?" the man barked. He nodded quickly, standing up. "Where is she?"

"I don't know- he took her down the hall somewhere…"

"Come."

He knew not the identity of his savior, but it didn't strike Everitt as the time to be particularly picky. The man did seem to know where he was going though. He approached a door, stopped, listened- and motioned that Everitt should stay where he was.

In one swift motion, he unlocked and entered the room, firing a spell simultaneously. Beyond that, Everitt was distracted by the arrival of another figure. He turned in alarm as a young man approached who looked forever like the youthful version of Lucius Malfoy.

The newcomer pointed his wand at Everitt and held a finger to his lips. They waited in silence for ten seconds…twenty…and then low voices could be heard from the room.

"_Ennervate_."

There was an intake of breath.

"Wha- how?" Everitt sighed in relief. That was Hermione's voice.

"Not now. Can you move? We've very little time."

"I- I think so," there was a grunt of pain and shortly thereafter, Hermione emerged, wrapped in an overly large cloak, supported on one side by the mysterious man. The boy next to him sighed and lowered his wand.

"Professor," he spoke quickly, "you have two minutes at most. You can apparate _out_ of the house from the drawing room upstairs, but out only."

"Your aunt has been summoned, Draco?"

"Just now, yes."

"And your father in no way saw you acting on our behalf?"

"No, sir."

Hermione spoke up quietly. "Thank you, Draco," she murmured. He nodded once but was afraid to meet her eyes. She winced as she was pulled forward, and the three made for the stairs.

"Professor Snape?" the young blonde man- Draco apparently- spoke again. _Snape?_

"Ah, of course," Snape turned and fired a spell at Draco, who crumpled to the floor.

"Wha-!" Hermione started.

"Obviously we can't leave him looking like he didn't put up a struggle," he bit back with some impatience. "He's merely stunned. Come, quickly, or we shan't be leaving ourselves."

They reached the stairs and went up one- two- before Hermione let out an involuntary whimper of pain. Without missing a beat, Snape swung her into his arms and carried on more quickly up the stairs, ignoring her half-hearted cries of protest. As they reached the drawing room, Snape turned to Everitt.

"Prince Residence is located at number thirty-four Woodyshire Lane."

The two apparated at once, Hermione held close against Snape's chest. Everitt stumbled as he appeared in a well-lit sitting room. He looked over to see Snape laying Hermione carefully on a sofa and her protesting adamantly.

"Honestly, I could've walked!"

"Unlikely," he muttered, turning to Everitt. Everitt, however, was distracted looking at Hermione. He could better see the extent of the damage now. Her lip was cut and bleeding, and bruises were forming on both cheeks. A long thin cut extended down the left side of her face next to her eye; another reached out of sight under her left ear. She looked pale and weary, and short, gasping breaths betrayed the pain she still felt. Everitt was glad for the cloak in which she had been wrapped- he wasn't sure he'd be able to stand seeing any further harm done.

"Sorry-," he blinked, turning towards Snape. "What?"

"I asked how this happened!"

"It's not Clark's fault," Hermione said, but Snape ignored her.

"I don't know," he was lost. "We were in the embassy, they came from nowhere. We were to meet with one of the American education ministers…"

"Who scheduled that appointment?"

"I did, but- I say!" he exclaimed, as Snape drew his wand.

"That's strange," Snape hissed. "You schedule the time and place, get ambushed, but somehow are the one who comes out completely unharmed."

"Severus!" Hermione sat upright with a great effort, clenching the large cloak to her as though it were a life vest. "Stop. He was tortured too."

Snape seemed to come out of some sort of rage at her words. He put his wand away and sighed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Albus will be here soon, I hope. I summoned him before I left." He snapped his fingers, and a house-elf appeared in the room.

"Harmony, I need a pain-relieving potion from downstairs."

The elf shot an anxious look at Hermione but disappeared with a crack. She was back almost instantaneously.

Snape handed the bottle to Hermione who gave him a weak smile before downing the entire thing in one gulp. She did look better after that, Everitt thought. He did, however, beckon Snape back over to him.

Everitt lowered his voice so that Hermione couldn't hear. "Is she in need of a medi-wizard?" he asked anxiously. Snape shook his head.

"I checked over the wounds before I woke up. It's nothing I can't handle." Everitt thought that sounded a tad pompous, coming from a potions master without medical training, but he did not question it.

"Talking about people when they're right there in the room is rude, you know," Hermione stated from the couch. She made to stand up, but Snape beat her to it, pushing her back down onto the couch.

"Don't do any more damage, you silly girl," he told her.

"Severus?"

Dumbledore came striding around the corner of the room and took in the scene in front of him. Clark Everitt was standing near the fireplace looking concerned and out of place. Snape was standing next to the couch looking exasperatedly at Hermione Granger, who was bruised, bloody, and pale, lying on said couch. He sighed sadly. "What's happened?"

Hermione and Everitt recanted their story about approaching the embassy, agreeing to take their potions, and being cornered in the lobby. Everitt told of being taken to Malfoy Manor, being questioned and tortured with _cruciatus_, but then fell silent.

"Then what?"

"They left me alone and took Hermione to be tortured in much worse a fashion it seems," he said bitterly. "I sat there, not knowing whether she even lived or died, until _he_ showed up," he gestured towards Snape.

"Severus? You went to Malfoy Manor? Were you seen?"

"No. Rather, only by Draco, who summoned me in the first place. But they will know I was there."

"How?" Hermione gasped.

"Their gate- you enter by displaying the dark mark. The gate will have known me, will reveal my presence there to them. Do not worry. It fits my schemes well."

"Psychological warfare," Hermione recalled a conversation from months ago. Snape inclined his head in agreement.

"Miss Granger- are you alright?" Dumbledore crossed to her in concern. He too took in her bruises and cuts across her face and looked stricken. "Severus, will you be able…?"

"Yes, I'll be able to reduce the bruising and scarring."

Dumbledore reached out a hand to gently feel the raised spot on her left cheek- at his touch though, something in Hermione's eyes flickered, and she flinched ever so slightly. Dumbledore froze, looking into her eyes. He then shook his head. "I'm so sorry, my dear. Please, if there is anything at all that I can do…?"

"I think Professor Snape's got it taken care of," she answered quietly. "But thank you, sir."

He smiled sadly at her and then turned to Snape and Everitt. "Clark, I'd like to take you with me to talk to Minerva and some others- I can't be sure, but I have a suspicion about how they knew where you'd be. Before we go though- Severus, may I have a word?"

Snape followed him into the hallway where Dumbledore spoke lowly and quickly.

"Be very careful, Severus. I sense that Miss Granger's torture was more complex than external examination will reveal."

Snape shot him a confused look before grasping his meaning. His eyes hardened instantaneously and he clenched his hands into fists.

"Do not give so quickly over to your anger," Dumbledore admonished. "She has accepted your aid and needs it. She requires love and caring right now- not hatred."

Snape turned his back on Dumbledore and took two steps back towards the sitting room before stopping.

"You did this," he accused. "You let her leave the safety of the Order. You did this."

**A/N: Oh dear. Accusatory Severus. :-( **

**Alright, 3 chapters in 3 nights… can I get a fourth up tomorrow? I hope so… but if not, I shall be in touch soon, hopefully**

**Thanks for the reviews…keep up the good work ;-) **

**Cheers!**


	20. Chapter 19

**A/N: BIG apologies- I've been calling her Chastity, her name was Charity Burbage. Fail. I'm surprised no one's called me on it. In any case, that'll (hopefully) get fixed eventually. But for the record…sorry. **

**Disclaimer: Why am I still putting this on every chapter? I dunno…**

**Chapter 19**

"Lucius…Lucius!"

He blinked groggily a few times, trying to register his surroundings.

"Oh, thank heavens!" Narcissa exclaimed. "When we saw Draco unconscious, we feared the worst…" she helped him to his feet. "What happened?"

"I do not know," Malfoy grudgingly snarled. "Draco is alright?"

"Yes, Bella is seeing to him now."

"Then they are gone? The captives."

"There was no sign of anyone else when we arrived."

Bellatrix came into the room, fury evident on her face. "None but those branded with the Dark Lord's symbol could enter these grounds," she scowled. "And no one of ours would be fool enough to help the mudblood. Who got into this house and how?" she shrieked.

"Calm yourself, Bella," Malfoy said, vainly attempting to mask his own fury. "If someone entered these grounds, the gate will have registered their identity, you know this."

"Very well. Let us go."

SCENESCENESCENESCENESCENE

* * *

"Taboo?" Everitt asked skeptically. "They can actually make a word…taboo?"

"It works in much the same way as a trace," Dumbledore explained reasonably. "Did one of you speak the name while you were in muggle London?"

"I- yes, I believe she did," he thought back. "But what makes you think this wasn't some other coincidence? Or that we were betrayed from within perhaps?"

"It is possible- but Minerva received a message at Hogwarts when you didn't show up for your scheduled appointment."

"They also were aware of the fight downstairs," McGonagall told him, "but trapped in the upper levels for the duration. They ascertained what happened. Albus received Severus's message while I was still speaking with them."

"We were very fortunate to get away so quickly," Everitt remarked, realizing that they'd only been captive for under an hour, transportation time included. "Though I'm not sure I understand what happened, Snape was hardly forthcoming on the matter."

"You must forgive him- he was, undoubtedly, most preoccupied with the wellbeing of Miss Granger," Dumbledore sighed wearily. "Draco Malfoy has forsaken his parents' path; he had aided us in what ways he could for the past several months. He was able to quickly send a message to Severus, that much I know. Until I myself speak with Draco or Severus, this is all I can surmise."

"So my theories about Snape were accurate?" he asked. "I'm sure Hermione told you about them."

"Ah indeed. Very fast on the uptake, I must say."

"Am I also correct in guessing that he and Hermione led Malfoy to believe that he was abusing her through the last year? That their relationship is actually closer than that of normal student-teacher as a result?"

Dumbledore pondered that. "Perhaps not 'as a result,' but their proximity certainly allowed them to bond in an unusual way. I don't know if your foreseeing mind saw this," he smiled, "but Miss Granger was a significant help in the creation of that potion she gave you."

"Ah- Grape. Ah ha. Oh dear, and I gave him all the credit," he smiled. There was a quiet knock at the door.

"Come in," Dumbledore called pleasantly. Everitt did not need an introduction to recognize Harry Potter as he approached the trio. "Is Remus alright?"

"Never better," he sounded relieved. "It was a near miss."

Dumbledore addressed Everitt. "We came to suspect the taboo situation after an attack on another of our members this morning," he explained. "He was fortunate enough to have had his wits about him, and escaped with minor injury. Clark, I suspect you recognize Harry Potter; Harry, this is Clark Everitt, Hogwart's new-," Harry cut him off.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts professor," he finished for him, frowning. "I thought you were with Hermione today." Anxious looks were exchanged all around. "What's happened?" Harry asked, going pale. "You mentioned the taboo- was she caught? Injured?"

"Yes and yes," Dumbledore answered quietly. "But," he stopped Harry's frantic response, "she is already escaped, thanks to the fast actions of Draco and Severus."

"Is she alright?"

There was a telling pause. "She will be fine."

"I want to see her."

"She is under Severus's care until further notice," Dumbledore said firmly but gently. "And, Harry, I am serious when I say this: do not contrive to see her without her express consent."

Harry swallowed hard. "What's happened to her?"

"She was tortured by Lucius Malfoy. Not for too long a time, but I fear it may have been traumatic nonetheless. As it stands, Severus is best equipped to deal with her injuries at present."

Harry gave a stiff nod of assent, turned heel, and departed the room.

* * *

She drank quickly from the flask of purple liquid, grimacing at the taste. Snape silently took the bottle back and sat it down on the dresser from which it had been retrieved. He then moved around her slowly and helped her shrug out of the cloak she had been clutching to her body for the past half hour. She winced as it scraped against some of the knife wounds which Malfoy had inflicted on her.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, though Hermione wasn't sure if he meant for her present pain or the situation as a whole. She remained silent as she observed the state of her body.

Her shirt was torn beyond the point of normal decency. Malfoy, in all of his sadist glory, had made decorative wounds across her upper body, including a couple she didn't quite recall- perhaps she'd already passed out from the pain at that point.

She had to hand it to Malfoy- as much as he prided the superiority of wizards, he sure knew how to use muggle weapons to great effect. Or perhaps that was meant to mock her and her muggle-born status.

Her skirt was twisted and wrinkled but had not met the same devastating fate as the blouse. She stopped to ponder this enigma, but was startled out of her musings by Snape.

"Look at me," he said quietly. She didn't move. "Hermione…" his fingers ever so gently tilted her chin up so he could look into her eyes. She schooled her expression as best she could, sensing the gentle pressure of his legilimency skills.

He ran his hands down each of her arms, skimming gently over the wounds, but feeling the elbow, wrist, and finger joints to make sure everything was as it should be. He ran his hands through her hair, feeling for any injuries to her head. Satisfied that there were none, he addressed her again.

"Nothing feels out of place, broken?" She shook her head slowly. "Then we can start with the cuts on your face and neck first. I have a disinfecting potion and another to--"

"I'd prefer to take a bath first," she interrupted.

He hesitated briefly. "Of course," he nodded curtly. "Harmony!" the elf appeared with a crack. "Draw a bath for Miss Granger, find her a couple of suitable towels please."

Hermione followed the elf into the bathroom- they were in Snape's room, not her own- and stood quietly by as the tub filled rather faster than usual. She stripped with some difficulty, and sank into the warm water, hissing as it stung her various wounds, some of which still seeped blood. She felt better though, as she washed off the blood that had caked and dried.

She sat back and closed her eyes, enjoying the blissful warmth and silence. She wasn't sure how long she stayed like that, however, before Harmony reappeared.

"Master Snape is wondering if you is alright?"

She started. Alright? What exactly did 'alright' entail? She didn't know, but she was pretty sure that this wasn't it. The more she thought about it, the more panicked she became, the more panicked, the more upset. Finally, for the first time since leaving Malfoy Manor, she felt tears well up in her eyes.

She sat crying for a couple of minutes forgetting about Harmony or Snape until the door opened and swift footfalls approached the bathtub. She heard a flurry of movement.

"Stand up." It was a simple enough command and she obeyed, and was instantly wrapped in the warmth of a thick and fluffy towel. For the second time that day, she found herself lifted and carried.

She was laid down in Snape's bed and flinched as his hand touched her face. He did not retreat though and, instead, sat down next to her and gently massaged two potions over each wound. The first disinfected it; the second closed it and prevented excessive scarring.

He started from the top and worked his way down, eventually reaching a long scratch which curved away under her right arm beneath the towel line. He stopped and again sought her eyes before deftly unwrapping the towel, folding it over to expose her body from the waist up.

He hissed as he saw for the first time the full extent of what Malfoy had done to her. He continued to work quickly though, and without comment. Hermione closed her eyes and did her best to not dwell on the past two hours of her life.

When he was finished, he replaced the towel as gently as possible. Wordlessly, he handed her another vial of potion to drink. At first she thought it was another sleeping draught but then she examined it more carefully and knew what it was; then she knew that he knew everything, and she drank it and cried again.

When he'd replaced the bottle he returned to the bed.

"Hermione- if there's anything else I can do right now or at any point- please tell me."

"I'm cold," she admitted. He grabbed a blanket and tucked it around her.

"Your body needs rest," he murmured. "You should stay here and try to sleep." He made to leave the room to let her be, but stopped at her single word.

"Stay." She said it calmly, simply, but in it was wrapped up all of her fears, hurts, anger, pain that she had dealt with in so short a time. He returned to the chair beside the bed, but she grabbed his hand- the first time she had initiated contact since returning. She tugged gently, indicating he should lie down next to her. She pulled his arm across her small, shivering body and tucked his hand in hers, close to her heart. She stopped shivering soon thereafter, and within five minutes, she was asleep.

* * *

"It is impossible." Bellatrix whispered the words, a mixture of disbelief and dread evident in her voice.

"He's dead- I saw the Dark Lord kill him, delivered his body to Hogwarts," Draco mustered as much conviction into his voice as possible. "It is a trick."

"But _why_?" Lucius exclaimed. "And how?"

"I don't know," Bellatrix answered grimly. "And I am loathe to tell the Dark Lord that Hermione Granger was captive and escaped once again- but this…" she closed her eyes and shook her head. "I don't know," she repeated. "Let me think. Our next step needs to be very cautious indeed."

* * *

Hermione jolted awake and lay breathing heavily for a few seconds, recalling her surroundings. She found no immediate source of her sudden awakening, but listening carefully, heard voices in the hall. They sounded heated, but muffled, as though the speakers did not wish to wake her. She rolled on to her side and closed her eyes, thinking she might sleep a bit longer. Before long, though door opened and closed again quietly, and she could hear someone making their way softly to the bed.

The bed shifted and the familiar weight of Snape's arm settled back around her, seeking her hand where she had clasped it close to her chest.

"Did you argue?" Hermione asked and immediately felt Snape stiffen beside her; he hadn't realized she was awake.

"I expressed my- displeasure- with Albus," he murmured. "I'm sorry if we woke you."

"S'okay," she yawned. "But don't be mad at him. S'not his fault."

"Go back to sleep, Hermione."

"Mm, okay…" and she rolled back over, tucked her head under his chin, and snuggled cozily against the warmth of the bewildered Snape.

**A/N: Aw. Sleepy Hermione. :-) **

**So I've really enjoyed writing these last few chapters…in fact, I've been doing the bare minimum in my school stuff so I could get back to writing… 0:-) Which means that the break is about to start (unless I get back from class at 10 tonight and immediately write, review, and publish a new chapter…) I think you shall hear from me in about another week otherwise. P.s. reviews are great for getting me eager to write in any and all spare time until then though… *wink wink* :P **

**Until then, adieu,**

**Cheers!**


	21. Chapter 20

**A/N: Had some time to kill this weekend after all. Bonus chapter! :-) (it's longer than usual too!)**

**Disclaimer: It still doesn't belong to me. Shocking, I know.**

**Chapter 20**

"What time is it?"

"Half past three in the afternoon- you've slept nearly three hours."

"Mmm," she fought against the drowsiness that threatened to pull her back under. She tried to sit up, and fell back down on the bed with a groan.

"Are you in any pain?"

She opened her eyes finally, blinking against the light, despite its dimness. "Not exactly," she felt her face gingerly. "More of a lingering stiffness...I feel like I've run a marathon and then been walloped by a quidditch team's worth of Firebolts." She paused. "Perhaps that would have been preferable..." she trailed off and averted her eyes from his gaze, suddenly very self-conscious of his proximity. "Sorry," she muttered, and made to scoot back across the bed. His hand on her shoulder stopped her.

"Don't," he said gently. "You have nothing for which to be sorry. Here," he slid an arm underneath her shoulders and helped her sit up. She winced a little at the movement, but attained a sitting position at least.

"Well, then thank you for staying all this time," she amended. "Watching me sleep- and nearly roll you right off your own bed, it seems- can't have been too interesting an endeavor for the past three hours."

"I confess, I was gone for twenty minutes or so to put some finishing touches on this month's Wolfsbane potion."

She smiled faintly. "Very well then- two hours and forty minutes is much better than three, you're right."

He smirked. "Impertinent witch." He slowly reached a hand out and traced one of the faint scars on her face. "You're healing well," he said quietly. "The scars should be completely disappeared by tomorrow morning. There is no longer any trace of the bruising."

She turned her head away and he jerked his hand quickly back. "Thank you," she murmured. "You took control earlier; I needed that. I was starting to unravel."

"There's no need to sound embarrassed," he reprimanded gently. "No one could have expected you to behave any differently, not after what-"

"How did you know?" she asked bluntly, eyes fixed on an imaginary point across the room.

He was silent for a long moment. "I didn't," he finally said. "Albus suspected- I shared those suspicions, observing your behavior. It wasn't until you accepted the potion that I confirmed it." He paused, looking at her. "Would you have said nothing?"

"No," her gaze remained determinedly fixed anywhere but at him. "I wouldn't have."

"May I ask why?"

She sighed. "First, because it's bad enough having everyone look at you and be horrified at the wounds they _can_ see. I don't want everyone tiptoeing around me like I'm somehow more breakable." She paused for a long time. "Second, because there are some people who I just didn't want to find out if at all possible."

"Like who?"

"For starters, Draco, who was already devastated enough about what his father did. If he comes to suspect the full truth, he'll just beat himself up for not giving himself away and stunning Lucius himself, rather than wait for you. Second, Clark, who I don't think fully understands the hatred Voldemort and his followers have for me. He wouldn't tell them who he was until Lucius threatened me, and then Lucius took me anyway, and I think that _he _thinks that only happened because he resisted. And third...you."

"Me?" Snape raised a questioning eyebrow. "Why in Merlin's name would you want to hide this from _me_?"

"It can be hard to resist saying 'I told you so' when you're proven right."

He eyed her incredulously. "You thought I'd- gloat?" His eyes flashed dangerously.

She shrugged uncomfortably. "You were so adamant that Professor Dumbledore not allow me to undertake Professor Burbage's work."

"Then my qualms lie with him, not you. Do not think me so harsh as to seek to inflict further pain on an already painful circumstance. Besides," he spoke with great effort, "in this, I find more in myself to blame than anyone else."

This finally got her attention enough to cause her to turn and look at him again. "Why?"

He considered his words carefully. "I've called you naive before and you've become offended; but it is not necessarily an insult. I think there were some aspects of our charade for Lucius that you did not quite comprehend."

She frowned. "I don't follow you."

"He had not the slightest interest in you before that. You were irksome because you were muggle-born, and friend to Harry Potter, and smarter than Draco; but you were not a particular target of his. What you failed to see through those months of school was the way in which I was dangling you in front of Lucius without allowing him access. You instantly became forbidden- because to him, you were mine- which made him develop a morbid desire for you. To see Draco take you when you were captive was a victory for him, because it undermined my claim, but it did little to dissuade his own wants. To have you in his grasp tonight...well, I'd hoped he would restrain himself longer...but his actions were predictable."

"And here was me, thinking that death eaters as a whole just couldn't resist themselves when they had a female captive," she smiled weakly at the poor excuse of a joke. "Seriously though, if you ever threaten to blame yourself for Lucius Malfoy being a sadistic, evil git again, I'll hex you into next year."

He sneered, but it lacked the usual malice. "You're alright then?"

"I will be, yes," she countered with a pointed look.

"But you aren't now?"

"Give me a day first, eh?"

He had the good grace to look abashed, but recovered quickly. "Well in the meantime, how about some late lunch?" He smoothly slid off the bed.

"I'm not hungry," she responded quickly.

"When's the last time you ate?"

She paused and then sighed in surrender. "Point."

"Can I bring you something?"

"I'm not an invalid!" she exclaimed. "For heaven's sake! I will come downstairs, and we can eat like normal people."

He raised his hands in defeat. "After you then," he gestured for her to proceed to the door.

"Er...Severus? Perhaps I missed something, but I don't think bath towels are suitable fashion just yet..." she blushed as she held the blanket tightly around her. He blinked, gave a soft snort of laughter, and crossed to the wardrobe. He pulled out a plain, black robe.

"Undoubtedly several inches too long," he handed it to her, "but that can be adjusted."

"Thank you," she murmured as he backed out the door, giving her some privacy. She stood up slowly and went into the bathroom, shed the towel, and examined herself in the mirror.

The scars on her face had indeed almost disappeared- what had been angry red welts were now thin, white, raised lines. She traced them down her body- some were more or less healed than others, probably depending how long or deep the initial wound had been.

She pulled the robe over her head and it was indeed very big on her. She went back into the bedroom and found her wand sitting on the dresser- she supposed Snape had recovered it from Lucius- and she touched it to the fabric. "_Reducio_," she murmured, watching the robe shrink slowly. When it was the proper size, she said, "_Finite_," and placed the wand in a pocket.

That done, she headed downstairs, wondering whether her and Snape would finally start to get along again.

*~SCENE SCENE SCENE SCENE SCENE SCENE~*

* * *

"You're _sure_ you actually want to come?"

"Positive," she promised. "I want to know what's going on and how they found us."

"Very well," he said shortly, and they apparated together to Grimmauld Place.

It was quieter than usual- they were there early. Hermione went to go sit quietly in the sitting room where they would eventual have a meeting, but a voice from the kitchen stopped her.

"Hermione? Oh, thank Merlin," Everitt came rushing out and clasped her hand. "I was rather worried, I'm so glad to see you back up and about- you're doing well?"

"Just fine," she smiled reassuringly. "Professor Snape is quite a prodigious healer as well as potions master," she turned to smile at him, but he had ducked away while she was distracted and was nowhere to be seen. She shrugged. "The scars will be gone completely by morning."

"Marvelous," he smiled warmly, and then changed the subject. "I spoke with Minerva earlier; she spoke with the minister on our behalf. It seems they were sufficiently convinced of the direness of the situation by our abduction that they agreed that muggle-born students were surely in danger if left in Britain. They've agreed to allow all of them to attend Salem."

"That's wonderful!" Hermione exclaimed, glad their work hadn't been abandoned.

"I must say, this whole 'Order of the Phoenix' thing is nothing like I expected it would be."

She laughed. "And just what were you expecting?"

"Oh, I don't know...a bunch of old, grey-bearded wizards sitting around a war table," he grinned. "Instead, I've been most entertained all day by the antics of the various Weasley children. Fred and George snuck a plate of canary creams into the dessert with dinner, and Ginny managed to get one of them back with a- oh, what did she call it?- toffee ton? No..."

Hermione laughed. "A ton-tongue toffee?" she asked.

"That's it. In any case, I think I'm quite disappointed to be coming to Hogwarts two years too late for the twins, but they assure me that Ginny is just as much the trouble-maker."

"Perhaps, but life would be much more entertaining with Harry, Ron, and myself," she grinned wryly. "Trouble just lives for us. Especially Harry."

As though waiting to hear mention of their names, Harry and Ron appeared suddenly from upstairs.

"Oy!" Ron exclaimed. "Hermione, you're here!"

"Most observant, Ronald," she smirked.

"Come upstairs, we still have ten minutes," Harry beckoned her. She turned to Everitt who waved her on with a smile, turning to go into the sitting room himself.

She followed Harry and Ron up to their room. Once they were safely behind the closed door, Harry turned and hugged her fiercely. She tensed up a little, wincing at the forceful contact. He noticed, however, and backed away quickly.

"Sorry!" he exclaimed hastily. "I didn't think- I'm so glad you're here though, Dumbledore wouldn't really tell us much except that you were hurt and Snape was taking care of it..." he sobered up. "So how are you? Everitt said Lucius Malfoy took you and...and tortured you," he finished quietly.

She did her best to smile encouragingly. "I'm fine, really," she promised. "It's definitely not something I want to go through again, but I'll live."

Ron eyed the white scars on her face. "I'll kill the bastard," he swore. Hermione looked away uncomfortably. Harry wisely chose to change the subject.

"So did you hear what's been going on here?" he asked, and Hermione looked up in interest. "Remus narrowly got away from a couple of death eaters- sympathizers, at any rate- when he went to try to meet with some of his werewolf connections."

"Oh no!" she gasped. "He's alright though?"

"Yeah, but it's how they got to him that's got everyone in an uproar. They think it's the same thing that happened to you and Everitt."

"How so?"

"One of them said something before Remus got away about saying 'Voldemort' aloud- somehow they've gone and made it an actual taboo, and they're using it to track down the resistance."

Hermione saw the brilliance of the plan at once. "Because only those who most ardently fight him are even willing to say the name at all."

"Exactly. While we're here though, it doesn't matter- the _fidelius_ charm is more than enough to prevent it from being an issue- but when you two were in muggle London..."

Hermione thought back to their conversation. "Yeah, I guess his name did come up," she said ruefully. She checked the time. "We should get back downstairs, I don't want to miss the meeting."

They headed back down and entered the sitting room which was filling up. Hermione crossed to the far side of the room to three empty seats and sat between Harry and Ron. No sooner had she made herself comfortable, however, when Dumbledore stuck his head in the room and beckoned to her.

"Sir?"

He spoke quietly and leaned down close to her. "I've spoken with Severus," he said, "who assures me that the full details of your imprisonment are to be left unspoken of. I merely wanted to assure you that Professor Everitt has not made any assumptions and that I will always be available to you if ever you need to speak on it."

"Thank you, sir," she murmured.

"And- one last thing- if you at any point feel that you would prefer to keep the memory of today in a pensieve, you need only ask."

She nodded her gratitude and returned to her seat.

As the last people trickled in, Hermione looked around and realized that Snape wasn't present. She kept an eye out through the meeting (at which much of what Harry had told her was reiterated) and he never showed up. She frowned, and after it was over, approached Dumbledore.

"Professor, where's Professor Snape?"

"Ah, Severus said that he merely wanted to pass along his message to me and that he did not intend to sit through the actual discussion. I had already explained most of what was said earlier today when you were asleep, actually."

Hermione recalled waking up and hearing the heated voices in the hall. She frowned and sighed. Still, she could not understand the man at all.

She stayed up and talked with Harry, Ron, and Ginny for a while; they seemed to sense her preference for discussion of relatively innocuous subjects. For the most part though, Hermione let them talk amongst themselves, preferring to sit and reflect, herself.

It wasn't until she lay in bed for half an hour or so, listening to Ginny's deep breathing from across the darkened room, that she realized she'd never fall asleep here. Slowly and quietly, she slid out of bed, putting on some slippers before she made her way out the door. She went very carefully down the stairs, doing her best not to make any noise that might wake anyone.

She made it to the hallway and almost to the door.

"My, Miss Granger, you _do_ look like a young Gryffindor sneaking out of her dormitory in the middle of the night!"

She turned and came face-to-face with Dumbledore. She blushed and remained silent.

He merely winked at her and continued on his own way out of the house. Just as he was about to walk out the front door, however, he turned.

"Perhaps leaving a note assuring everyone that you are merely staying the night in your former room at Prince Manor would not be amiss. I'd hate for a panic to start because someone thinks you've been abducted again."

With that he was gone, Hermione gaping after him. She shook her head and followed his instructions before continuing on her way.

The house was dark and quiet, and she winced at the loud noise of her apparition. When no one appeared suddenly to hex her, she walked up the stairs and paused outside of Snape's room. She tapped lightly at the door, holding her breath. And sure enough-

"For heaven's _sake_, Albus!" she heard Snape's muffled voice from inside. "Haven't you harassed me enough for the day? Or for my life, for that matter?" with that he flung open the door, looked down, and seemed very taken aback to find a startled Hermione in her nightclothes standing there.

They both stood in silence for a long moment, and then both went to speak at once.

"Is everything...alright?" he asked, upon her indication that he speak first.

She was suddenly nervous. "Yes, fine, I... I couldn't sleep." She blushed and looked away.

He looked bemused. "I daresay you know where the sleeping draughts are," he said slowly. She opened and closed her mouth, not knowing what to say.

"Of course, sir," she finally settled. "I'm sorry to wake you."

Cringing and wondering why she'd come in the first place, she turned to leave. She was stopped by a hand on her arm.

"Wait."

She turned and met his eyes. He was looking at her carefully, pensive.

"That's not why you came here, is it?"

She shook her head slowly. "No, I really couldn't sleep," she assured him quietly. "But you're right, of course, I can very easily go get a sleeping draught--"

"Oh, come here, you silly girl," he tightened his grip on her arm and pulled her into the room, leading her over to the bed. He drew back the blankets and moved back for her to slide in. Once she was settled comfortably, he put out the lights in the room with a flick of his wand. He then crossed the room and slid in on the other side of the bed.

Unsure what to say, Hermione rolled to her side and curled up tightly for warmth.

"Come here," he commanded gently and she hesitated for the briefest of moments before sliding back into his arms, her head against his chest, one hand clasping his as it had earlier that day.

"Good night, Hermione."

"Good night...and thank you, Severus."

* * *

*~ SCENE SCENE SCENE SCENE SCENE SCENE

Hermione awoke with a start. It was dark still, and she had no idea of the time.

"You were dreaming," Snape's voice penetrated the stillness. He sounded tired.

"I- yes, I was," she murmured, trying to remember what it was that had gone through her head, made her wake up. She was sure it had been something in her dream, not a noise in the real world.

"You seemed- unnerved." She then noticed that the blankets around her were twisted and disheveled, and that his arm around her was rather tight, as though to prevent her from moving too much.

She calmed down slightly and settled back against him, thinking hard. The more she pondered her dream though, the further it slipped from her. She knew it had something to do with being at Malfoy Manor...but it hadn't been _that_ bad of a dream, had it? But what could have startled her awake so abruptly? Someone being tortured? Lucius with the knife held to her neck...no, but closer. Something he had said...

"Oh!" she gasped.

That woke Snape up further; he stiffened, suddenly alert. "What is it?" he asked hurriedly.

"No, I just remembered...something that Malfoy said to me, I completely forgot. But it might be important...I should tell Professor Dumbledore."

"As it's half past four in the morning, I daresay he is asleep like a normal human being," Snape muttered wryly.

Hermione blushed. "Right. Sorry. I'll tell him in the morning...later in the morning, rather."

"That sounds like an excellent plan."

She relaxed and tried to go back to sleep but Snape spoke up again after a few moments.

"What was it?"

"Hm?"

"What did Malfoy say to you?"

"Oh- I guess it's probably nothing- but he said that Voldemort's out of the country, something important."

"More important than capturing you?"

"Obviously."

"Hm..." he was silent for a long time, and Hermione thought he'd fallen back asleep. Then, suddenly, he got out of the bed and pulled her up with him. "You're right. You should tell Professor Dumbledore."

"I- alright..." she watched silently as he sent a quick message to Dumbledore, and was surprised when he received one back in quick turn.

"_Not to worry- I am awake; you may meet me in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place,"_ was the reply from the Dumbledore-voiced phoenix. Snape grasped Hermione's arm and together they apparated.

They walked through the darkened house to the kitchen- the door was closed- and were startled to find, not only Dumbledore, but Harry and Ron there as well.

"Oh!" Hermione stopped short upon seeing them. They, in turn, looked between her and Snape in surprise- undoubtedly they still thought her sound asleep in Ginny's room.

"Severus?" Dumbledore queried. "Is everything well?"

"For the moment. Miss Granger has remembered something she fears might be of importance, something Lucius said to her today- she came to me to ask if I thought it relevant," he lied smoothly. "I daresay it may be."

The three turned to Hermione, who finally found her voice.

"It seems kind of silly now," she blushed, "not worth all this fuss. But he said that Voldemort was out of the country doing something important. Obviously he didn't say what, but- and not to overestimate my own significance by any means, but it struck me that Malfoy would want to let him know immediately that I was caught."

Dumbledore exchanged a startled glance with Harry. Hermione continued.

"I just wondered if it may have to do with horcruxes," she guessed. "He could be trying to hide another one..."

Dumbledore broke in. "It's good of you to tell us this," he told her. "It supports some rumors I have been hearing for a few days now, and indeed, the timing is most strange- Harry has just had a dream tonight, a strange dream which suggests that Voldemort is indeed active abroad..."

"I dreamt that Voldemort was seeking a man named Gregorovitch-"

"The wand maker?" Snape asked.

"I think so," Harry agreed. "I couldn't remember why, but I knew the name- it was because of the Tri-wizard tournament- he made Krum's wand."

"What would he want with a foreign wand maker?"

"That is the question," Dumbledore murmured, and his eyes looked troubled. "Perhaps he is still troubled by the problem of the twin cores?" Here, Snape shot a glance at Dumbledore. "Perhaps he seeks something--" he was interrupted by a gasp from Harry, who clutched his head and clenched his eyes shut. "Harry?"

"It's him- he's found Gregorovitch," Harry moaned. "He- ah!" his breathing sped up and he formed a tight fist. The other four in the room watched in trepidation for the duration of the spell.

When it was finally past, Harry sat gasping for breath.

"He's dead," he muttered. "He killed him."

"What else did you see?" Dumbledore asked quickly, anxiously.

"He asked about a wand- a powerful wand that could defeat all others--" Dumbledore closed his eyes and made a fist with one hand. "Rumors were that Gregorovitch once had it- and lost it-"

"Children's tales," Snape murmured, and Dumbledore shot him an unreadable look.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, interested.

"He seeks the 'Death Stick,' a fairy-tale wand which would have power above all others. It is a legend, born of children's story about defeating death- exactly the kind of story the Dark Lord would find interesting."

Ron, much to Hermione's surprised, piped in here. "You mean the Deathly Hallows?"

Snape snorted. Dumbledore next spoke cautiously, seeming to weigh his words.

"Whether or not Voldemort is basing his quest off of the child's tale of which Ronald speaks is up for debate. Indeed, this tale includes more than one 'hallow.'" But he did not elaborate.

"Then you think he does in fact seek this all-powerful wand?" Harry asked, alarmed.

"It seems likely," he ventured. "He fears your wand, Harry. He wants a sure way to beat it. But Harry," he looked at him very seriously. "Did Gregorovitch say anything else? Did he give any indication of the truth of the rumors?"

"I-," Harry thought back. "He denied it," Dumbledore gave a sigh. "But Voldemort looked into his mind, he saw a young man...I'm not sure if the two are related," he admitted. "It's all pretty jumbled now. I'm sorry. But a young man- thin, swarthy- sandy-haired... I can't remember anything else."

"Hm..." Dumbledore fell silent for a long time. "I think it goes without saying that you should report any further insights in this matter," he told Harry."

"You're not saying you actually buy into this nonsense!" Snape exclaimed.

Dumbledore smiled lightly. "Do not be so quick to dismiss the power of children's stories," he warned. "There is often a great deal more of truth in those than the things dreamt up by mature witches and wizards." He paused. "I need to think," he said. "It is late, and we should all sleep while we can. We will talk more of this later."

He said it with such an air of finality that no one dared say anything else.

**A/N: Let's see, it's Monday now...lots of work to do tomorrow and Wednesday- new chapter by early Friday, I hope...maybe sooner if scheduling continues to my advantage ;-) **

**Until then,**

**Cheers!**


	22. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer: I wish. **

**Chapter 21**

Hermione slept the rest of that night back at Grimmauld Place, making sure to get rid of the note first which explained where she would be. She sighed inwardly, thinking about the questions Harry and Ron would ask her in the morning, and she didn't want Ginny joining in on the sport.

She couldn't even explain to herself why she had gone to Snape- she supposed it had to do with his taking care of her when she was hurt and distraught yesterday, she felt comfortable with him. But really, she thought, it wasn't exactly fair to him. He had outright told her he'd prefer to keep his distance rather than risk hurting her, and here she was, showing up in the middle of the night and expecting him to welcome her with open arms. Well, to be fair, he had- but she still felt like she might be taking advantage of the situation a little bit.

The next morning, Hermione woke late as a result of going to bed late and getting up for an hour in the middle of the night. She thought on the conversation of the night before- it seemed Dumbledore wasn't telling them something, or so she thought; but nonetheless, she wanted to look up this story and see exactly what this 'Deathly Hallows' tale that Ron referred to was. Since he had brought it up, he seemed like a good source to ask where she might find it. She also figured she might distract him and Harry by bringing that up before they could ask why she was with Snape last night.

Unsurprisingly, Ron and Harry were still in bed even after she was awake, dressed, and breakfasted. Rolling her eyes at the "Oy!" from a half-dressed Ron, Hermione retreated downstairs and came across a newly arrived Lupin and Tonks. Smiling, they beckoned her to join them in the parlor.

"How are you, Remus?" she asked, sitting. "I hear you had a near miss yesterday."

He raised an eyebrow. "Me? I hear yours was nearer," he remarked soberly. "But yes, I'm perfectly well. And yourself?"

"I'm fine," Hermione assured him. "Just a little beat up," she smiled lightly. "Professor Snape was kind enough to take care of me though. And to rescue us in the first place," she added.

"Minerva has finished your business with the embassy though?"

She nodded. "Everything actually worked out well, in the end," she sighed in relief.

"So it did," a new voice broke in. "Which is good, or I may never have forgiven myself otherwise," Everitt walked into the room with a sober expression. "We haven't been introduced," he shook hands with Lupin and Tonks. "Clark Everitt."

"Remus Lupin," he smiled. "One of your predecessors in the Defense job, actually."

"The only good one," Hermione muttered. Lupin laughed.

Everitt turned to Tonks.

"Tonks," was the only introduction she gave herself. Hermione laughed.

"Can't stand her first name- Nymphadora," she murmured behind her hand, and Tonks scowled.

The four sat talking for a bit until Harry and Ron finally graced the living world with their presence. Hermione excused herself to find a quiet room in which she could speak to them. They grabbed a handful of pancakes from Mrs. Weasley first and then headed upstairs. Harry and Ron were quiet and brooding the whole way.

When they stopped in their room, Hermione turned to face them. "What's got into the two of you?" she asked.

"Snape," Ron muttered.

"Snape?" Hermione asked, surprised.

"He was lurking downstairs. We ran into him. He was being rather nastier than usual," Harry told her.

"Oh..." Hermione frowned. She hadn't seen him at all the entire time he'd been downstairs. She shrugged. "In any case," she sought to change the subject, "I wanted to ask you about the Deathly Hallows story," she told Ron. Harry perked up in interest.

"Really?" he asked through a mouthful of pancake. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Really, Ronald. You know Harry and I don't know the same children's tales as you and Ginny. We grew up on muggle stories."

"Hm..." he swallowed with great effort and thought hard. "I don't remember that one too well," he said slowly. "Something about three brothers, and Death confronts them...somehow they end up taking things from Death that enable them to escape it themselves..."

"And one of those things is a powerful wand?"

"I reckon," he said. "But Snape's right, obviously. Just kids' stories."

"Dumbledore didn't seem to think so," Harry pointed out.

Ron shrugged. "Maybe."

"Where could I find the story?" Hermione asked, wanting to read it in its entirety, not just the snippets that Ron recalled.

"Well we had it in a book called 'Tales of Beedle the Bard,'" he said. "It's probably in other story books though."

Hermione seriously doubted she'd find a book full of children's tales in the Black family library here at Grimmauld Place. Or in Snape's, for that matter.

"Do you own a copy of it?" she asked.

"Probably back at the Burrow," he guessed. "I can ask Bill or Charlie to look for it next time I see 'em," he offered. Hermione nodded her thanks and then found the next opportunity to excuse herself.

She went to the library, usually deserted, and sat, thought, and brooded.

* * *

Clark Everitt finished his conversation with Lupin and Tonks and took his leave. His purpose in coming to Grimmauld Place that day was actually to find Dumbledore, but he'd been informed that he was else wise occupied.

As he turned to leave the house, he saw the back of a familiar figure disappearing around the corner.

"Snape!" he called. The figure tensed, and turned to meet him in the hallway.

"Everitt," he replied in a measured tone. "I trust you are well."

"Quite, thanks. Look," he looked down as he spoke, "I wanted to thank you- I never really got the chance to do so properly yesterday." Snape raised a brow, but said nothing. "I also don't think we got off to quite a good start, and I think I understand why that is."

"Do you?" Snape asked lightly.

Everitt smiled evenly in turn. "Hermione, of course."

"What, pray tell, does Miss Granger have to do with this?" his eyes glittered strangely as he regarded the younger man with something akin to contempt.

Everitt was not put off. "More than I think you're willing to admit," he said softly. "I like to pride myself on an ability to read people fairly well," he said immodestly. "And I think she means a great deal more to you than you like people to think."

"Touching," Snape replied caustically.

Everitt nodded his head in acceptance of Snape's lack of forthcoming. "I loved Charity more than I ever let on to her," he said wistfully. "And the only consolation I could find in her death was that she died for something she believed in, and she died quickly and without much pain." Snape's expression became unreadable at this admission. He watched him closely. "I trusted that Professor Dumbledore knew what he was doing, allowing someone as young as Hermione take up a role which killed the last person to undertake it- and I think he was right to let her. She's remarkable." Snape pursed his lips. "I also don't think what happened yesterday was avoidable, but I would never have forgiven myself had some greater harm come to Hermione, or had you not arrived in time..." he paused. "Perhaps it is not my place to do so, but I wanted to thank you for what you did for her."

Snape sneered maliciously. "Dumbledore was a fool," he whispered, "And so are you. You've no comprehension of the full suffering she underwent, and you never will. You're involved in something way beyond yourself here."

"It is true that I do not fully understand the war here, as a result of not having lived here until now," Everitt remarked slowly. "But in talking to and getting to know Hermione..."

"Don't," Snape said harshly. "Leave it. Whatever you may have come to feel for the girl, she was under your care, and you failed to keep her safe." He stalked toward him slowly, and Everitt's eyes widened in alarm. "If I ever find out you've been responsible for--"

"Oh, erm..." Snape turned quickly at a voice in the doorway. Hermione stood there, looking between Snape and Everitt in confusion. "Sorry for interrupting," she muttered, embarrassed. "I'll just..." she turned, face red, and closed the door.

There was several seconds' silence between the two men in the wake of her departure.

"I understand you," Everitt broke the silence. "And I'll go- but just know that I would die before letting anything else happen to her- I found consolation after the death of Charity, but I still won't fully forgive myself. I thought I'd made the same mistake yesterday, and thanks to you, my fears went unrecognized. So thank you once again."

He bowed his head and ducked away, not meeting Snape's eyes.

Snape stood there in silence and closed his eyes. With a groan of frustration, he hit the wall forcefully, turned, and left.

* * *

Snape closed his eyes in resignation, sensing the presence in his doorway before hearing the voice.

"You've been avoiding me today."

"If I have, I've obviously been unsuccessful," he stated wryly. Hermione winced. "I suspect I know why you're here." He finally turned to look at her, poised in the entrance of his bedroom.

"Do you?" she asked quietly.

"I imagine you heard all the details of the little encounter you walked in on this afternoon," he said acidly.

"No, actually," she replied evenly. "After that, I never saw either you or him for the remainder of the day."

The briefest flicker in his eyes was his only sign of surprise. She was quiet for a moment, and then spoke hesitatingly.

"Is there something about it I should know?"

He huffed. "I called him a fool who betrayed whatever trust was placed in him to keep you safe."

"I don't believe that was ever in his job description," she murmured wryly. He slammed a fist down onto his desk, and she took an involuntary step back, alarm evident on her face. He glanced at her.

"Perhaps you understand then why I've spent my day skulking here alone," he retorted. "It surely was just a matter of time until you came running to his defense."

She stared at him incomprehensibly, incredulity beginning to blossom. When she spoke, her voice was laced with indignation.

"Well that's hardly fair of you, given that this is the first I've heard of the matter! And I'm not defending anything or anyone," she exclaimed, "it's not like it wasn't my own choice to be where I was when the death eaters showed up. Just like when you and Draco helped me infiltrate Voldemort's hideout so I could save Harry and Ron," she pointed out coolly. "I don't really understand how you're suddenly so offended that I be in dangerous situations when you helped put me in one just four or five months ago. I also might remind you that the outcome of my brief captivity yesterday was precisely what was _feared_ by you when you consented to my ploy back then."

"Just making up for lost opportunity then?" he replied scathingly. "It doesn't work like that."

"You're can be a complete and utter bastard, do you know that?" Her voice shook with restrained fury. "Of course it doesn't work like that- don't you think _I_ know that?" Tears of rage were forming in her eyes. "Do you think I enjoyed myself yesterday, as Lucius Malfoy--"

"Enough!" he silenced her. "Enough. Of course I didn't mean to imply…" he stopped and shook his head, clearing his thoughts. When he spoke, it was lowly and solemnly. "The events of your captivity in March and April were decidedly fortunate, given the possibility of what _could_ have happened. To see that possibility realized…" he trailed off broodingly. "And _he _doesn't even understand," he continued forcefully. "Everitt thinks that a few scratches were healed on your face and you're magically good as new," he sounded horribly bitter.

"You can't blame him for my keeping it from him," Hermione rebuked.

"Yes," he responded bitterly. "Whilst you carry on protecting his delicate sensibilities, I shall continue to be the overreacting bastard who can't see the lighter side of life."

Hermione stared at him, realization coming to light on her face. "You're…you're _jealous_!" she was dumbstruck. "You're jealous that I'd care enough to not want to cause him unnecessary self-hatred." She was incredulous. "What about Draco? What about the fact that I told you that, if I'd had my way, even _you_ would never have known?" His eyes flashed. "What exactly is it that you're afraid of here?"

"Just that you'll be further hurt," he snarled. His expression then softened a bit. "I'm not jealous. I…" he paused and closed his eyes. "I _might_ have been…for a time…before today."

"What changed?"

"He explained his prying interest in your well-being," he admitted grudgingly.

Hermione frowned, not understanding at first. "_My_ well-being? What difference would that…oh- oh!" she laughed, and Snape scowled. "You thought he was_…interested_ in me?"

"I'll admit, the thought crossed my mind. As did the thought that the feelings might have been…reciprocated."

She smiled plaintively. "Severus, haven't you learned by now that I'm just no good and recognizing these sorts of feelings in other people- in myself for that matter," she murmured, almost to herself, and his eyes flickered. "Even if he had- it would be just as big a surprise to me now as then. My interest in _his _happiness is strictly platonic, I assure you," she told him dryly. "As is his for me, I imagine."

Snape looked slightly sheepish, but quickly turned back to an almost accusatory expression. "So, as we've established that my suspicions are unfounded, what are you doing here?"

"I wanted to apologize to you," she told him quietly, seeking his eyes. At this admission, he looked even more surprised than before.

"Whatever for?"

"I- I suspect I've been imposing a bit much on your hospitality," she swallowed hard, self-conscious as his gaze bored into her. "You were very kind in taking care of me yesterday, but I had no right to come to you as I did last night. You told me that you preferred to maintain a certain distance and I clearly failed to respect that wish by showing up unannounced and expecting you to- well, I don't imagine it was very fair to you," she finished, flushing.

"I don't believe you saw me to complain at all," he said slowly. "Though I do not deny my surprise at your sudden arrival." She looked down, unable to meet his eyes. He gazed at her, an unreadable expression flashing across his face.

"You were at Grimmauld Place today though, and you avoided me. Even before I walked in on your argument with Clark," she pointed out, as he opened his mouth to correct her. "Harry and Ron said they saw you and that you were in a bad mood- I'd assumed it was somehow related to last night."

He looked at her, and had she not been staring at the floor, she might have been assured by the compassion in his eyes. Soundlessly, he rose and strode the length of the room to her. She shook slightly, tears welling up in her eyes, as he wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin gently on top of her head. He sighed in good-humored exasperation.

"You've misunderstood me today, Hermione," he murmured. "I'd never- of course I wouldn't begrudge you being here if you chose to be. Rather, I feared that- you coming to me for comfort, mental or physical- it could be construed as manipulation on my part." This got her attention. She started and backed away, looking at him in confusion. "If more people knew what you'd been through yesterday and, in turn, knew that you spent the night with me…it would not be a jump in logic to think that I was taking advantage of the situation and your pain, and coercing you by convincing you that you would feel better."

"That's ridiculous," Hermione interjected weakly. "And I _did_ feel better."

He smiled, reached a hand up to her face, and wiped a tear away with his thumb. "There's that naïveté I was talking about," he smiled and she blushed. "Perhaps it was foolish of me to consider the possibility that _you_ would believe this- but I promise you, it would not be a leap in logic for older witches and wizards who have seen more of the world." She trembled slightly, and he led her over to sit on the bed.

"So, are we clear on our various misunderstandings?" he asked, gently teasingly.

She smiled. "I think so." She paused. "Actually…" she trailed off, looking slightly uncomfortable.

"Yes?" he arched a brow.

"I- can I move back? Just for a week or so," she added hastily. "But with so many people around Grimmauld Place…I just find it stressful at the moment," she finished quietly.

His eyes glittered darkly. "You may stay as long as you need."

"Thank you," she muttered, averting her gaze once again. He regarded her in puzzlement.

"What is it?"

"Nothing," she said too quickly. "I should go get some of my things before it gets too late, so I can explain where I'm going."

"Of course," he stood from the bed and held a hand out to her. She stared at it for a few seconds before taking it and allowing herself to be pulled into a standing position once more. She frowned as she stood there. He reached a hand to her face once more, in an attempt to get her to look at him, but she jerked her head away at his touch.

"I'll be back," she said quietly, and fled. He stood there, staring after her, understanding little of what had just occurred between them.

* * *

**A/N: Yay, it's not Friday yet :P This actually would have been up a day earlier, but the last scene required a drastic re-write…it moved entirely too quickly in the original, and Hermione bothered me a lot. I like this more though. :-) **

**Some work to do this weekend (yay for research papers on ancient Egyptian temples/sites/artifacts of our choice…) but I daresay you will see a bit more of me, ere the end of it. **

**Cheers!**


	23. Chapter 22

**A/N: You can tell I've having a distracting semester; big author error number 2: after a certain point, somehow Clark Everitt turned into the new DADA professor instead of transfiguration…just another thing added to the list of eventual corrections… *sigh***

**Disclaimer: Muahaha, I stole the rights to Harry Potter. Wouldn't that rock? **

**Chapter 22**

About an hour later, Hermione wandered down to the potions lab, where she found Snape and Lupin, the latter acquiring his first dose of Wolfsbane for the coming full moon.

"Good evening, Hermione," Lupin smiled warmly at her.

"Hello," she murmured in return, smiling evenly.

"I didn't know you'd be here," he commented mildly before drinking from the steaming goblet with a grimace. "Are you helping Severus brew once more?"

"I'm actually moving back here for a few days," she said.

"Oh, don't worry, you'll be earning your keep somehow," Snape smirked. "I'm sure I'll find a use for you down here."

"If you find my brewing skills adequate that is, professor," she grinned, and Lupin looked on in amusement.

"Irrelevant," he said flippantly. "Chopping the rat spleens into even quarters should be a suitable task for your abilities. I daresay you've become a bit rusty of late."

"Why you--"

"Severus, you're actually joking around," Lupin laughed. "Or at least I hope you are, for Hermione's sake. I remember the days of rat spleens for detention…" he looked wistful.

"Yes," Snape smiled grimly, "well then let us hope that Hermione's skills are not eroded by her vacation away from potions." Hermione laughed and Lupin looked taken aback briefly before chuckling himself. He shot Hermione a quizzically amused glance that she failed to interpret until she realized what had tripped him up: Snape had actually referred to her by her given name in front of someone else, something he had been conscientious to avoid, as she had with his. By his pursed lips, Hermione surmised that Snape had realized the same thing but was resigned to his mistake. She struggled to hide more laughter.

"I actually must be on my way," Lupin moved towards the door. "Do let me know how brewing goes, won't you Hermione?" and with one last bemused glance, he disappeared. Hermione grinned and then turned to Snape, sobering up.

"I do think you've baffled poor Remus," she lamented jokingly. "So did you actually need any help down here?" she looked around.

"Not tonight," he dismissed the thought with a wave of his hand, returning a book to the shelf on the far side of the lab. "Perhaps later in the week though."

"Alright," she acknowledged quietly, heading for the stairs herself. Snape followed her. "I guess I'll just go to bed then. It's been a long day." Without another word, she made her way up to the room that had been hers for each of the past two summers.

When she was gone, Snape frowned, staring up the stairs after her. He pondered a few minutes before striding purposefully to the fireplace and throwing in a handful of floo powder.

"Albus! A word, if you please," he called silkily. Several seconds went by before a figure appeared, rotating quickly in the fireplace and eventually landing heavily on its feet.

"Ah, Severus," Dumbledore smiled in acknowledgement. "What can I do for you tonight, my boy?"

He mulled his words for a few moments. "I must confess myself…uneasy," he finally articulated. Dumbledore's expression was one of surprise.

"In what regard, Severus?"

"What else?" he responded darkly. "Granger."

Dumbledore chuckled. "You make her sound like an errant school girl." He became more serious though. "Does she seem to be…dwelling?"

Snape frowned. "It is difficult to tell," he answered slowly. "The change in her between her arrival here yesterday and just a few hours later, after she'd slept- she hardly seemed in denial, nor did she seem overly traumatized by the experience. Perhaps she's had time to think about it now, or gotten over some shock perhaps, but she seems to have regressed since yesterday."

"Hm…" Dumbledore pondered this. "She came to stay with you last night, no?" Snape glanced at him quickly, but did not read any censure in his tone or his expression. "How was she then?"

Snape shrugged. "A little baffled as to her own presence there, I think," he snorted, "but apparently in need of some sort of physical comfort. She slept soundly until the dream that brought us back to Grimmauld Place woke her."

"And today?"

"I didn't see her until recently- I grant you, her behavior was partly due to multiple miscommunications between us- but she seems more reserved, less aware, more brooding. She seems disturbed at some level."

"Perhaps I should go see her?" Dumbledore suggested mildly. Snape shook his head.

"She's just gone to bed."

"She's here?" Dumbledore again looked surprised.

Snape nodded. "She said the multitude of people at Grimmauld Place was stressing her out, and asked to move back for a time. I, of course, could hardly refuse the request," he said lightly.

Dumbledore looked pensive. "What would your advisement be then? Does she need a more…proactive approach to what's happened?"

"I believe that a stronger encouragement to utilize a pensieve would not be amiss."

Dumbledore smiled gently. "Then I daresay the matter is mostly in your hands." Snape looked at him inquiringly. "Come now, Severus," he chided, "surely you see that your opinion is most likely to influence the poor girl. She's come to you on this matter. Repeatedly."

"Perhaps you have a point," Snape allowed stiffly.

Dumbledore surveyed him sternly over the top of his half-moon spectacles. "Severus, if you feel that this would be best left into other hands…"

"No," he corrected. "It will be taken care of."

"I'm leaving the country tomorrow; I expect to be gone a few days," Dumbledore informed him. "Should you have urgent need of me, I will be accessible, but with difficulty."

"I'm sure we shall make due in your absence." He paused. "Where are you going?"

Dumbledore smiled wistfully.

"To visit an old friend."

* * *

Hermione couldn't sleep.

For hours, she felt, she'd lain in bed, convincing herself that she could sleep. And every time she thought she might be on the verge of unconsciousness, the excitement about finally getting to sleep with ensure that she woke back up. She found it a very similar situation to being at school and having an early exam; she'd stay up studying, go to bed too late, and every time she'd be close to falling asleep, she'd check the time to see how much sleep she would get. Invariably, she'd then start panicking because she wouldn't get enough, thereby ensuring that she not fall asleep anymore.

Eventually she got fed up. Not having an exam in the morning, it was hardly essential that she maintain a healthy amount of sleep, so what was the point? She climbed out of bed and put a dressing robe on over her pyjamas for warmth. Quietly, she crept up to the library and stood pondering the shelves. As she reached up to a shelf a foot above her head, she froze.

"Spying on me now, are you?" she asked bemusedly, and without turning around.

"Believe me, if I were spying, you'd not have been aware of my presence so quickly."

She believed him.

"I thought you were going to sleep?"

She sighed. "Tried. Couldn't." She finally turned and saw Snape leaning against the railing at the top of the stairs. "So what brings _you_ here in the middle of the night then?"

He looked at her pointedly. "You, of course."

She frowned. "How did you…?"

"Harmony. I told her to let me know if you left your room."

"I didn't realize I was to be kept under surveillance if I was staying here," she said slowly.

He did not even attempt to look apologetic. "I was worried about you."

"Well I…" she stopped and considered his last admission. He didn't often express such sentiments so clearly. "I'm fine. So there's no need to worry."

He sized her up. "I'm not entirely convinced of that," he informed her quietly. She stiffened. "I think there's more going on in your mind right now that you'll admit."

"Perhaps, but it's also possible that I just don't care to discuss it."

He raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Be that as it may, there may be better ways to clear your mind than by sneaking off to the library in the middle of the night."

"I don't want to use a pensieve," she headed him off before he even had a chance. He was slightly taken back.

"Why are you so adamantly against it?" he frowned.

"Many reasons," she said slowly. "But mainly because it still wouldn't help me sleep tonight. I've too many things on my mind, and those are not central to a specific event which I can shuffle happily away into a stone basin."

"I suppose we do have a dilemma then, do we not?"

"_I_ do," she corrected. "You wouldn't even be here if you weren't having me watched," she gently made fun of him.

"Touché," he murmured. He paused. "You fell asleep last night with little issue," he finally pointed out.

"Well," she said quietly, "last night I perhaps should have used the pensieve. My problems sleeping were remedied by a change in environment."

"And such is not the situation tonight?"

"I don't think so," was her soft reply. She looked down to the floor, flushing slightly. "Really, sir, I'm sorry you've been woken, but that's not my fault, and I'll be alright if you just want to return to bed…"

"You've taken to calling me by my given name when we're alone," he pointed out, approaching her curiously now. "You don't have to call me 'sir,' I'm not your professor." She said nothing, but flushed a deeper red.

He continued. "Be it remedied with a pensieve or not, I can not justify returning to a comfortable sleep with you in obvious distress," he told her seriously. "If there's anything that will help you, you need just--"

He stopped abruptly for a few reasons. First, because Hermione looked up at him sharply. Second, because she took a step forward and grabbed him by the front of his robe.

And third, because he was prevented from speaking when she kissed him firmly on the mouth.

He froze and she stepped back, eyes apprehensive but bright.

"Ah," he struggled to articulate a thought. She didn't give him much time to try though, as she reached up again and kissed him once more, more gently this time. He closed his eyes and groaned lowly, reaching up and finding her hands. He allowed himself to kiss her back for the briefest of moments before tightening his grip around her wrists and, with great self-control, taking a step back, holding her at arm's length.

Her expression was unreadable.

"What are you doing?" his voice was of a forced and deadly calm.

For the first time, she showed a flicker of insecurity. "I'd have thought that was obvious," she snapped more harshly than she'd intended.

"When I asked if anything would help you," he sounded warily bemused, "that wasn't exactly what I expected you'd have in mind."

She changed in an instant. Her face assumed a mask of impassivity and she went to turn away from him. He maintained a grip on her arms though.

"Let me go," she quietly demanded.

"After _that_?" he was confused, but released his hold. "You're not even going to explain to me…?"

"Not if you keep laughing at me," she responded stiffly, but stayed where she was, taking a few steps back.

"I'm not laughing," he held up his hands in a show of defense. "I just don't quite…understand."

She stared at him blankly, a thousand possible answers running through her head. "Forget it." She winced at her obviously unacceptable reply. "It's- I can't explain- I just…"

"Hermione?"

"_I _don't understand!" she finally exclaimed.

Now he was _really_ confused. "What don't you understand?"

"Romance. Affection. Love."

He frowned, not really getting it. "I'm still not sure--"

"You know the closest thing I've had to a romantic interlude?" she asked bitterly. "Being with Draco before he gave me over to his father, back in March. And that was because I _had_ to," her voice was pained. "I had to so that if someone else…" she didn't finish the thought.

He spoke cautiously. "I was under the impression that you and Draco had stronger feelings for one another…?"

She laughed humorlessly. "Perhaps in a perfect world. It's like you said- naïveté. He opted for the path of seclusion. I let him. We've not really spoken since April."

"It's probably safer for him," Snape said slowly.

"I know," she sighed wearily. "I know. And I don't begrudge it. But when I thought I had a chance at a normal… I don't know. It's stupid."

"Of course it isn't," he said gently. "It's a natural desire to be close to someone like that."

She was silent and her eyes darted up to meet his and then quickly resumed examining something over Snape's left shoulder very carefully.

"It's hard," she said slowly, with difficulty. "The only concept of physical romance I have is…well…" she trailed off uncomfortably.

He quickly crossed the distance between the two of them, startling here. "Do not confuse _that_ with real passion," he said fiercely. He pulled her into his arms, and she felt tears well up in her eyes. "Hermione," he pleaded gently, "you know how I feel about you." She nodded. "Then I think you'll be able to understand why I can not give you what you seek right now." She shivered in his arms, but it had little to do with the temperature of the room. "You're hurt and I'm sorry for that- I'm so sorry," he sounded sincere. "But this isn't the answer, it isn't really what you want, and I'd be taking all the more advantage by allowing it. You're just looking to lessen your pain, and that's not the solution."

"Then what is?" she asked bitterly.

"Let it hurt," he said bluntly, placing a soft kiss to the top of her head. "It's okay to feel. Now that you've left Grimmauld Place, you don't need to worry about the strong façade anymore. It's wearing you down inside. And if you don't want to use a pensieve, there are always other routes towards relieving your suffering." She looked at him inquiringly. "Talking," he suggested lightly. "Writing."

She sniffed a little. "I'm sor--"

"Don't even say it," he said warningly.

"But I am," she murmured. "And more than a little embarrassed."

"There's nothing to be ashamed of. You've proven that you're human, regardless how sharp that mind of yours is," he smiled and she grinned sheepishly.

"I think I can go to sleep now," she spoke up quietly, and he released her from his embrace, looking carefully at her face.

"If there's anything…well…" he trailed off and smirked at her, remembering the last time he'd offered that, and she blushed.

Half an hour later, when his door opened silently and a dark figure made its way slowly over to the far side of his bed, Snape did not object, was not even surprised. For her part, Hermione was lightly embarrassed, but nestled comfortably against him as he held her as he'd done the night before.

After a few minutes, when Snape couldn't tell if she was asleep or not, he risked a light, soft kiss to her shoulder as he finally allowed himself to drift into unconsciousness.

She smiled to herself as she too slowly fell into a deep sleep.

**A/N: Sorry that took forever. VERY stressful weekend. Agh! And I haven't done most of the work I needed to do. So I'm about to have a very stressful three days here. Ah well. **

**Thanks as always for reviews. **

**My fiancée is coming to visit a week from today :-) So next week will probably be a little less writing-heavy (as will this one with so much work) so I'll try to make up for it this coming weekend. **

**Until next time!**


	24. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer: plots are mine I guess…made up characters…the rest is JK Rowling's… **

**Chapter 23**

He wasn't sure what woke him, but Snape was instantly aware that he had slept later than he'd intended. Usually keyed to a strict mental alarm system, this was an unusual occurrence, but then again, he had stayed up rather late dealing with Hermione before actually going to sleep.

Speaking of whom…

She dozed comfortably; in the night, she'd turned and was now facing him, hair spread wildly across her face. Smiling lightly, he swept it back and, in doing so, she stirred awake.

She was a little confused upon awakening, and he supposed he couldn't blame her. Last time they had tried this, she'd woken up halfway through the night and they'd rushed to Grimmauld Place. Now it was morning- mid to late morning, he judged by the light in the window.

For her part, she thought she saw a strange look pass over Snape's features before it settled into a comfortably neutral expression while she struggled to catch up with consciousness.

"You kissed me." As soon as she said it, she wanted to _obliviate_ both of them and go back to sleep. It hadn't been intended to be spoken aloud, but in her semi-conscious state…it sort of slipped out.

He raised a sardonic brow. "You kissed me first," he pointed out wryly.

"Technically not true," she said in mock sternness. "As the saying goes…you started it."

He watched her carefully for a long time, and she began to feel slightly nervous under his penetrating gaze.

"Does this…bother you?" he finally asked, sounding almost curious; as curious as she supposed Snape ever sounded.

Now she blushed fervently, but couldn't look away. "I- no," she murmured. "It doesn't. I wouldn't have…if I didn't want…" she sighed heavily. "I'm not very good at this," she finally ground out, closing her eyes in frustration.

"No one is asking you to be."

"But you usually demand perfection in everything, _professor_," she teased. His lips quirked.

"I daresay I may make an exception. Once."

She smiled tentatively and looked thoughtful. He was on the verge of asking what she was thinking when she drew herself up to a sitting position where she could better face him. He looked at her inquiringly.

"Does that- I mean- canIkissyouagain?" she closed her eyes in mortification at her inability to speak coherently. "Sorry," she muttered. "But- seeing as how you wouldn't let me last night…" she looked up at him hopefully, and tried to read the glittering darkness of his eyes.

He leaned closely to her and her breathing hitched. She closed her eyes and sat perfectly still, sighing as she felt his hands slide behind her neck- and then he tilted her head gently down and kissed her once, fleetingly and softly on the forehead, before releasing her and backing away.

"I do believe you tricked me," she stated dryly.

"My apologies," he said smoothly, neutral mask back in place over his features. "If you must know, I wasn't sure myself what I planned to do until the last moment there," she opened her mouth in outrage. "However, the answer remains no, for the same reasons as last night."

She smiled in surrender. "And how long will it be until you are sufficiently convinced that I am not merely trying to replace my prior less-than-ideal encounters with a better one? That I actually want to kiss you- for you." His eyes darted quickly to meet hers, and he closed his eyes in frustration.

"You aren't going to make my attempt at nobleness in this matter easy, are you?"

She smirked and shook her head slowly.

With a groan, he leant forward quickly, grabbing her firmly by the shoulders as he did so. Her eyes widened in surprise as he kissed her fiercely but briefly.

"There- now out, witch!"

She laughed lightly, reading no real annoyance in his tone. She slid smoothly out of the bed and backed slowly out the door. He watched her all the way, and she swore his eyes were darker than usual.

As she made her way down the hall to her own room, she found herself suddenly face-to-face with Lupin at the landing of the stairs.

"Oh!" she took a step back and he stopped, having nearly run into her as he reached the top of the stairs.

"Good morning!" he sounded surprised. "Having a bit of a lie-in, were you?" he asked good-naturedly, and she realized just how late it must be.

"Something like that," she grinned inwardly. "You're here awfully early though."

"I actually have something for you," he held out a book and she took in curiously. "It seemed I could 'kill two birds with one stone,' such as it is, and bring it to you as well as take my dose of the Wolfsbane potion for the day."

It was a copy of the _Tales of Beedle the Bard_. Hermione smiled delightedly and thanked him profusely.

"Not a problem at all," he smiled perplexedly at her excitement over a book of children's tales. "It actually came from Charlie Weasley- I'm just passing it along."

"Well I appreciate it nonetheless," she gestured down the hall. "I should go get dressed. Care to join me for some breakfast in a few minutes though?"

"Ah, already ate," he looked apologetic. "You know what a slave I am for Molly's cooking." She laughed.

"Who isn't?" she agreed good-naturedly. "I'll see you later then, Remus." She took her book and walked briskly to her room, anxious now to read the

Lupin continued down the hallway in the opposite direction as Hermione, pensive. He stopped at Snape's door and tapped lightly. He quirked his eyebrow as he heard a voice from within.

"You are truly persistent, aren't you? No means-," the door swung open and Lupin was pretty sure that, in some twenty-five years or so of knowing Snape, he had never caught him as off guard as in this moment. He froze, eyes widening almost imperceptibly before managing to regain his usual dour mask of impassivity.

"Expecting someone else?" he asked lightly.

"I suppose it would be foolhardy of me to assume any sense of privacy in my own home with a werewolf running freely about it a week out of every month," Snape drawled sneeringly.

"And how kind of you to provide that service," Lupin said pleasantly, ignoring the jibe at his imposition.

"Can I do something for you, Lupin?" Snape sighed. "You're here rather earlier than usual."

"My apologies. I had a delivery for Hermione. Yes, I already saw her," he cut off Snape as he opened his mouth to tell him where she was, "and from the sound of your unintended greeting, you two have some unfinished business. Problems?"

"Not that it's any of your concern," Snape said stiffly, "but no."

He sized him up momentarily, and Snape raised his eyebrows in derision.

"Yes? Merlin knows I have better tasks to attend to than listen to you speculate on things of which you know nothing."

"And Merlin knows I'd hate to assume," Lupin interceded smoothly. "I actually had a message for you as well. Harry requested to speak with you tonight."

"Potter?" Snape's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "Why?"

"He didn't say, though I suspect it relates to Albus being out of the country."

Duh. The boy probably had another nightmare-vision that just couldn't wait.

"You may relay to Potter that I will be at Grimmauld Place…" he stopped and reconsidered. "No. He will come here. Immediately following dinner, I know Molly Weasley operates like clockwork. He may bring Weasley if he must." He could tell by Lupin's expression that it galled him a little bit to know that Snape was in the confidence of both Harry and Dumbledore on a matter of which he knew absolutely nothing. "Your potion is all ready downstairs if you want to retrieve it now."

"My thanks, Severus," Lupin recognized the clear dismissal. He went to leave, but turned back before he'd made it three steps. "And, Severus? Be careful." Snape had already turned back to his room, but he stiffened at his words.

Somehow, he was pretty sure he knew what Lupin was talking about.

* * *

"Potter," Snape stared at him dubiously from across the table. "To what do I owe this…pleasure?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat, Ron to his left. He was opposite Snape, who had Hermione to his right. He really didn't enjoy these meetings without Dumbledore, but he had little choice in the matter, he supposed.

"Professor Dumbledore told me that I should make all matters relating to Voldemort's movements abroad known," he said quietly. "And as he's not here, it seemed fitting that I should relay them to you, sir."

"Very well."

"Voldemort's found a new target. He's not sure where he is, but he's getting close." Harry seemed confused at his own information.

"Well? Who is it, Potter?" Snape bit impatiently.

"Grindelwald."

Silence.

"Grindelwald?" Hermione spoke up. "The dark wizard?"

"I assume so," Harry shrugged. "I didn't even realize he was still alive."

"Nor did the Dark Lord, I suspect," Snape murmured. "It was indeed unknown to the world what became of him- Dumbledore did not want his fate publicized."

"Why?"

"You'd have to ask him," Snape said pointedly. "It's been more than fifty years, after all. Do you know to what end the Dark Lord seeks this Grindelwald?"

Harry shrugged again. "The same reason he sought out Gregorovitch. He's looking for a wand that can beat all others."

Snape rolled his eyes but did not comment.

"For…for Voldemort to go to such lengths to look for a wand from a fairy tale," Hermione spoke tentatively, attention directed towards Snape, "wouldn't it suggest that he has some…higher authority that it exists, maybe?"

Snape sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Or perhaps, Miss Granger, he is merely showing his already-evident desire to be 'master of death' in all aspects of life."

"But to go on a wild goose chase like this…!"

"And what of the other 'hallows'?" Snape sneered. "Death's own cloak of invisibility? The Resurrection Stone, with the power to bring back those who were once living? No," he sighed, sounding suddenly weary, "No. Difficult circumstances will cause even the smartest of witches and wizards to place their faith in the impossible, seek the unlikeliest of unlikely means towards their ends."

Hermione was silent after that, but thoughtful. Snape had sounded suddenly bitter, when pressed. She had read the story finally, knew the full tale. The 'Elder Wand' had passed into a bloody history of murder and deceit; the Resurrection Stone, a shadow of a hope at bringing back lost loved ones; the Cloak of Invisibility- well, that one had a happy ending in the story. Equanimity with Death. That, clearly, was not the one for Voldemort, who sought so highly to conquer death himself.

Of the three sitting around him, Hermione alone understood Snape's bitterness regarding bringing back those he loved. True, Harry had lost more than him with the death of his parents; but Snape's love for Lily had been deep-imbued; Harry's loss was now a longing for normality, but was without a concrete memory on which to base it.

Snape spoke again after a lengthy silence. "If the Dark Lord is indeed after Grindelwald, Albus should probably be aware of it," he said smoothly, regaining his former composure. "I will send him a message, though he warned of difficulties in reaching him. If that's all, Potter…?"

"Yes, sir," Harry stood up quietly. Hermione gave each he and Ron a quick hug before they apparated back to Grimmauld Place. When they disappeared, she was caught by a sudden thought, and stood, staring into the fire, forgetting Snape's presence before he spoke once more.

"I did not mean to snap at you so."

She turned and gave a half-smile. "It's alright- I did not mean to imply I held much to be true in this story. I just wonder how he could be so determined over such an unlikely idea…" she pondered her next words carefully, and finally decided she should ask now or never, as this was a topic which Snape would be loathe to address again. "I am a little perplexed on one aspect of the tale though," she said slowly. His eyes narrowed. "If these supposed 'hallows' were so magnificent, so rare…why an invisibility cloak? Those aren't _that_ rare, are they? I mean, several exist, even if they are hard to come by."

He looked at her wryly. "Come now, Hermione. Surely you realize the difference- a cloak which would actually _protect_ one from death versus a cloak with a temporary spell or charm, allowing anything under it to go unseen." Hermione frowned though, and looked perplexed.

"But Harry's cloak- that's not temporary."

"A properly performed spell could last several years."

"Even through two entire generations, at least?" Snape looked at her, confused, before grasping her meaning.

"Ah. Then it is a family heirloom." He tried not to look too scathing. "I can not say. My acquaintance with the cloak was very brief, if you do recall…" she did, and blushed. That was the night she was sure she'd be expelled for taking part in attacking, stunning, and knocking Snape unconscious.

"Right. About that…" he rolled his eyes and brushed her comment aside.

"As much as it pains me to admit- I might have had it coming. As insufferable as Black was, I can say _that_ fate was not once which he truly deserved."

Hermione came back across the table and stood next to him, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"Now, now, Severus," she scolded. "Don't dishonor his memory by giving any sort of indication that you liked him at all."

He turned to look at her, smirking. "No, that wouldn't do at all, would it?"

They went down to the potions lab where they worked in comfortable silence for a couple of hours. Hermione was pleased to note the ease with which they were able to collaborate on the same potion without getting in the other's way. Months of hard work and practice had paid off.

Figuring she shouldn't push it, Hermione slept in her own bed that night. Which was probably a good thing, in retrospect, when she was woken by a somewhat ashen-faced Harry very early the next morning.

"Harry! Wha- what time is it?" she blinked against the harsh lights of her room, struggling to orient herself.

"Almost six," he said impatiently. "Hermione…he's dead now too. Grindelwald is dead."

Hermione sat bolt upright.

"I didn't want to wake Snape," Harry admitted. "I figured he'd yell at me for putting too much stock into fairy tales again."

"What is it, Harry? What aren't you telling me?"

"He has it, Hermione. He took a wand from Grindelwald. He claimed it was the Elder Wand, at any rate."

Hermione was confused. "Harry, that doesn't make any sense. Surely he was imprisoned. Why would he have a wand at all?"

"I- oh, it was all explained in the dream!" Harry shook his head. "It's too foggy now, I need a pensieve."

"I think Dumbledore's is here," Hermione said distractedly, remembering why it was there in the first place. "I'll go wake Snape," she told him. "Really," she laughed at his protest, "I don't think he'll hex me. Go wait downstairs."

And so she went swiftly down the hall to Snape's room, tapped lightly, and opened the door. Checking that Harry wasn't waiting outside, she crept to his side and gently touched his shoulder.

"Severus?"

"Mm," he groaned sleepily.

"Where's Professor Dumbledore's pensieve?"

"Lab- special cabinet," he muttered.

"Thanks." She almost made it back to the door when he woke up enough to wonder why she was there.

"What do you need it for?"

"Harry. Grindelwald is dead and Voldemort has the Elder Wand. Go back to sleep." There was a moment's silence while he processed those words. Then he was out of bed with barely a second's warning and she started as he approached her swiftly, backing into the doorframe.

"Did you not plan to make me aware of this?" he asked dangerously.

"Seeing your special sentiment towards the whole matter and Harry," she said coolly, "I thought you'd wait until you were more properly awake."

"Charming. And why _exactly_ does Potter need a pensieve?"

"He's struggling to pull details out of his dream."

Muttering under his breath about seers and failed occlumens, Snape drew on a heavier cloak and departed the room swiftly, pulling Hermione behind him. He deposited her at the dining room table where Harry sat looking apprehensive.

"This better be good, Potter."

**A/N: Sorry that took forever. Long week. Long weekend. Fun week to come, but sadly, lacking in writing I imagine. Be warned- you may not here from me again until next week. The fiancé is here until next Monday. Yay for me. Boo for my avid readers. **

**Until then, let me know how you're doing- how are you enjoying the mixing of canon aspects with the AU story? I know some of you are frustrated with the slow progress of Snape & Hermione- but hey, they're getting there. :-) At least now they both openly acknowledged some affection. And kissed. Sort of. **

**Cheers!**


	25. Chapter 24

**A/N: Sorry on the wait. My computer died last Tuesday… various RAM issues and whatnot…it was quite the dinosaur. Anyway, brand new laptop! (I've never had a laptop before…sad for a college student, I know)…so in any case, I'll hopefully make up for lost time this week, what with the novelty and all. ;-)**

**Disclaimer: Same as always**

**Chapter 24**

_With a blast of magical energy, Voldemort forced his way into the dank, dark room. And there was someone waiting for him. _

"_I wondered when you'd come," a dry, reedy voice that sounded as though it were tired from a lack of use sounded from across the room. The voice belonged to a withered old man with dark, sunken, shifty eyes and gnarled hands which sat folded calmly in his lap. _

"_Grindelwald…"_

"_Yes. It is me. You've been searching for some time, I daresay." _

_Voldemort chuckled mirthlessly. "What is time to me?" he hissed. "Irrelevant. And now I am here. And I think you know why." _

"_Strange…I do. But I must urge you against what you seek." _

_Another hiss. "Against?" he asked, incredulously. "I _will_ possess the Death Stick. And you- you will tell me how." _

_There was several seconds' silence while Grindelwald sized up Voldemort. Two of the evilest wizards of their days, one at the newly-returned height of power, the other long declining, powerless. But here, they were a match, were equals, in their quests for the same knowledge, the same mastery of death. _

"_You had it." Voldemort prompted. "How long was it in your possession?" Grindelwald said nothing. "_Crucio!"_ He contorted with pain and shrieked horribly. "Come now, come. What is the point? You must recognize your own imminent death. You can tell me what I desire, or you may not, but surely you realize that Lord Voldemort will gain the truth- one way or another." _

_Grindelwald's face tightened into hard lines. _

"_I will give you what you seek." _

"_You will tell me what has become of the wand?" _

"_No- I will give you the wand, and the secret to being its master. But I will warn you now- it is not worth it. Death may not be conquered. You will become more its slave than ever. Look at me." _

_Voldemort laughed cynically. "Your power is laughable to mine. Indeed, I have already gained a level of immortality unknown to wizard kind. Think of the Death Stick as- an additional bonus." _

_Grindelwald bowed his head in apparent defeat. He reached a clawed hand into his dirty, matted robes and produced a wand- it seemed to shine in the dankness of the room. Voldemort's eyes widened almost imperceptibly. _

"_You still have it? How can this be?" _

"_It is a mockery to me," Grindelwald said bitterly, eyes flashing. "Dumbledore knew, when he defeated me, that death would be a blessing. What he didn't know was that, by leaving me alive, but defeated, he broke the power of the wand. It is worthless to me." _

"_Then…it will answer to Dumbledore?" He almost spit the name with distaste. _

"_No."_

"_How is that possible?" _

"_It is the _Death Stick_. Death is the secret. His weakness was his mercy. Had he possessed the strength to kill me, the wand would have passed to him. The last possessor of the wand, before Gregorovitch took it to study- and he never truly believed in its power, never used it, never had the strength to master it- he was killed by one who knew not what the wand was. Since the death of its murderer, it has waited to be taken up by a worthy master, and it thought me so. Now, after my defeat, it awaits my death." _

_Voldemort's laugh was high and cold this time. _

"_How utterly convenient for me then," he whispered. "I was going to kill you anyway." _

"_And I will welcome the relief. But beware. It is tricky in ways you cannot even begin to imagine." _

_He died with Voldemort's laugh ringing in his ears. _

The four emerged from the mists of the pensieve, silent but for the deafening resonation of that cold laugh. Hermione looked at Snape, and found his expression guarded, revealing nothing. Harry looked lost and confused, and Ron just looked bewildered.

"Is it…is it true then?" Harry seemed reluctant to speak, and braced himself visible for Snape's onslaught of scathing insults. It never came.

"We will wait for Professor Dumbledore to return," he finally said evenly.

"But- -"

"I would not wish to speculate at this critical moment. If there is any truth to this, the Dark Lord will act quickly, and he will strike hard."

Harry and Ron left shortly after that. Hermione promised to call them as soon as they reached Dumbledore, and then she was alone with Snape. She turned to him and opened her mouth, but he held up a halting hand.

"Let me think a moment."

She nodded and wordlessly left the room, returning a few minutes later with two cups of tea. When she held one out to him, he looked at her, surprised, as though he hadn't even noticed that she left the room.

"You alright?"

"Hm." He looked pensive as he sipped his tea. "Difficult to say. I struggle to believe that which is being thrust upon me again and again." He sighed.

"Do you know of Cassandra? The daughter of Priam?" He looked amused.

"Please do not compare Potter to a classical Greek prophetess. I shall be wary, however, that I not dismiss his…seeing abilities."

She laughed lightly, then sobered. "Are you going to send a message to Professor Dumbledore?"

"There is no need."

Both turned in alarm at the new voice from the doorway. Indeed, Dumbledore stood there in the flesh, looking more worn than Hermione was comfortable to see.

"That was a fast trip," Snape observed wryly.

Dumbledore smiled ambiguously. "My business was faster than I expected." He turned to Hermione. "How are you, my dear?"

"I'm quite well, thanks," she murmured. "You look a little beat though, sir, I must admit."

A bit of the twinkle returned to Dumbledore's eye, and he chuckled. "Yes, I suspected as much. But forgive me, I'm behind the times- Severus was supposed to send me a message?"

Hermione started subtly. She always took it for granted that Dumbledore knew what was going on, knew what the next step had to be. It never occurred to her that he had simply showed up now, when he was needed, and not known why.

"Potter." Snape said simply. Dumbledore's expression faltered slightly, and Hermione thought she saw a dark flash across his face before he mastered himself.

"Voldemort?" the question was casual, but Hermione sensed the tension behind it.

"Indeed. It's all in the pensieve, if you care to view it firsthand." Again, Hermione thought Dumbledore hesitated, but he acquiesced with a grateful nod.

She shot a perplexed look to Snape, who in turn looked a bit baffled at Dumbledore's seeming disconnectedness.

When he emerged from the pensieve, he looked sadly resigned.

"How long ago did Harry see this?"

"Not more than an hour. He came and woke me," Hermione told him softly.

He thought for a moment. "We will reconvene in a few hours," he finally said.

"That's it?" Snape finally spoke. "We've been waiting for this…ridiculous…development, and now that it has occurred…we will wait?"

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "Voldemort will not bring down the wizarding world in the time it takes us to sleep properly and regain our wits; mine especially." Again, Hermione realized just how wearied he look now, more so than ever before. "I will send you a message."

"Albus- is it real?"

He turned back to Snape and smiled sadly. "As real as you or I."

"Did you not know? When you defeated him?"

He paused. "I knew that these matters of death and wands were far more complicated and complex than most comprehend."

And with those unhelpful, completely ambiguous words, he left Hermione alone with Snape once more.

"What do you think?" Snape spoke up after a minute of silence.

"I think…that we should take Professor Dumbledore's advice and get some sleep."

He sighed and moved towards the stairs with her. "I doubt I would succeed in such an endeavor."

"Then come with me." He raised an eyebrow but followed her the opposite way down the hallway to her own room. Once there, she shed her outer covering robe and gestured that he should do the same. That done, he sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at her inquiringly. She approached him slowly, bare feet sinking softly into the thick rug.

His eyes never left hers as she gently reached for him, bringing her arms up and placing her hands at the back of his neck. He remained unmoving as she brought her face down to meet his, lips ghosting over his and across his cheek before leaning to whisper in his ear.

"Relax."

He seemed to, somewhat. He settled back slightly and brought his hands to her waist.

She brought her face back to his and placed her lips against his more forcefully this time. He tensed again and she persisted; gradually, he allowed it, and his fingers clenched, digging into the soft material of her pyjamas.

Without warning, he pulled away, but maintained his grip on her waist.

"Hermione…"

"Don't," she murmured. "I know what you'll say. It's okay. Leave if you want. But don't say it."

His eyes flashed with an expression she couldn't quite read. Suddenly, she found her lips crushed to his again, this time by his doing. She gasped in surprise when she felt herself lifted and swung around onto the bed next to him.

He leaned over and continued to kiss her fervently, pinning her body with his own, hands lightly tracing up and down her sides.

It seemed no time at all before Snape was pulling away, a seeming-regretful look on his face.

"What's wrong?" she propped herself up on her elbows to better look at him.

He smiled. "Nothing. Nothing at all. But you should learn patience." His tone was gently teasing and she grinned abashedly. "Try and get some sleep now," he told her quietly.

"Will you stay?" she asked, looking resigned.

There was only the slightest hesitation this time. "Of course," he agreed, and they settled into what was seeming to become a habitual position, with him holding her tightly, and her pressed snugly to him, head resting against his chest.

* * *

"Miss Granger seems much improved from my last visit," Dumbledore remarked sagely the following afternoon before lunch. He and Snape were alone in the drawing room, waiting on Hermione to fetch Harry and Ron.

Snape's expression turned defensive.

"My reading into the situation was…inaccurate," he said stiltedly.

"And were you able to remedy whatever was troubling her?"

A ghost of a smile passed across Snape's face ever so briefly. "It's a work in progress, but yes, I daresay progress is being made."

"Good, good," Dumbledore looked about the room inquisitively, and Snape guessed that his mind, too, was otherwise occupied.

SCENESCENESCENESCENESCENE

**A/N: A bit shorter than usual, but I didn't want to start another long complex section of Voldemort analysis. So my apologies. **

**Hope you enjoyed. Sorry again for the wait. **

**Until next time,**

**Cheers!**


	26. Chapter 25

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter. Damn. **

**Chapter 25**

"We have established that Voldemort does, indeed, possess the Elder Wand."

"Is he unbeatable then?" Harry asked reluctantly.

Dumbledore chuckled. "My dear boy, surely you realize that these matters are not so simple as all that. The history of the Elder Wand is a bloody one, dominated by stories of subterfuge, betrayal, and murder. This is what Voldemort understands, and he has complete faith that he is the greatest wizard that lives and that, with the Elder Wand, he will be unstoppable." He paused. "But do not forget what it is that separates the two of you, Harry. Do not forget the importance of your differences. Do not forget the importance of your similarities either."

Harry swallowed heavily, and Hermione thought about the twin cores. Would such a connection matter if Voldemort possessed an abnormally powerful wand? She didn't know.

"So what does this mean, then, for us?" Harry queried.

"I daresay it will aid us more than you realize, in the long run. He will grow overconfident, and that will serve his downfall. Yes," he chuckled at Harry's expression, "even in possession of the Elder Wand."

"You seemed to put a lot more stock in the Elder Wand when we first determined that the Dark Lord was after it," Snape remarked suspiciously.

"And I do now," Dumbledore nodded to him. "But I will also recognize the limitations that will be gained by placing as much stock in it as Voldemort does. That is why I allowed him to take it."

"Allowed him?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Of course. I knew of the rumors, knew what Grindelwald possessed."

"And where exactly was this little trip of yours to?" Snape was still trying to understand the confusion and ambiguousness that had defined Dumbledore since his return.

"I was merely seeking my own answers," he said serenely. "This is not what is important now, however," he turned his attention back to Harry. "We need to focus on one thing: locating the remaining horcruxes. Three are destroyed- the diary, the locket, and the ring. Four remain, and we have guesses at two- the snake and the goblet of Hufflepuff. Which leaves two horcruxes as-of-yet unidentified. I have a theory on that as well, however."

The other four all looked at him inquiringly.

"We will journey back to the pensieve in due course," he told them. "But for now, I will say this. Tom Riddle returned once to Hogwarts after I assumed the role of headmaster. He sought the job of Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor."

"And cursed it upon his failure," Hermione surmised immediately.

"Quite right!" Dumbledore looked delighted. "I do, however, have reason to suspect that he had another motive in returning to Hogwarts; hiding the sixth of his horcruxes."

"What is it then?" Snape bit impatiently.

"Oh, I have no clue," Dumbledore exclaimed. "But we may begin to draw some ideas presently. What I mean to say though is that he was still making horcruxes extremely late, even after his return from abroad."

No one quite seemed to register his point. He sighed.

"He was extremely meticulous and picky in his choices. Personal items with a strong attachment, heirlooms of Hogwarts founders (but none yet uncovered of Ravenclaw or Gryffindor)."

"There are no known heirlooms of Rowena Ravenclaw which survive today," Hermione said slowly. "And Gryffindor's only ones are the sword and the hat."

"Exactly! It is, therefore, my suspicion that when Voldemort went to attack the Potters sixteen years ago, he had only succeeded in creating six."

"So…so you think that all we may be seeking to destroy besides the snake is the cup and something unknown at Hogwarts?" Harry said slowly.

Dumbledore's eyes flickered once, but then he smiled.

"I do believe indeed that those are what we must _seek_, yes. I also believe that we will require some assistance from inside to accomplish this. We have proven time and again that the connection between Harry and Voldemort is strongest during times of excitement and passion."

"You want Draco's aid?" Snape asked evenly.

"Eventually. We will need to stage a scenario which will suggest to Voldemort- suggest, but not tell- that his plans are being laid bare. And it will be through Draco that the message is relayed, methinks."

"Will that not make it near impossible to succeed in destroying his remaining horcruxes?" Snape looked skeptical. "As long as he is ignorant of our knowledge, he will not go to any greater effort to hide what remains, or protect Nagini, which will probably be hardest of all to destroy," he reminded.

"I have faith that Harry's ability to see into Voldemort's mind will aid us in our endeavor to find the goblet of Hufflepuff," Dumbledore said serenely. "Which means that we must wait indeed until we discover whatever is hidden at Hogwarts."

* * *

"Why did you and Professor Dumbledore go to Hogwarts last month?" Hermione asked Snape that evening in the library. "The day that Harry's family was attacked?"

He was quiet for a long time. "We sought to enter the Chamber of Secrets," he finally said.

"Why?" she squeaked in horror. She felt herself rather fortunate that she'd been spared- at the price of petrification- the journey into that awful cavern below the school in second year. Thinking about it some more, she was horrified at what they had encountered, so young in life. Harry faced Voldemort, was nearly murdered by Quirrel in their first year; she'd been petrified and Harry and Ron had journeyed into Slytherin's lair second year to save Ginny; fourth year, Harry had seen Voldemort return, watched him murder Cedric; fifth year, lost his nearest thing to a parent.

And sixth year- well, Harry's sixth year had been relatively mild, compared to hers. Until they were all kidnapped, that is.

"Basilisk fangs. The venom is priceless in that it can actually destroy horcruxes- it is also very valuable in the world of potion-making. Albus feared that, should Voldemort begin to fear for his horcruxes, he would remember that a basilisk still lay dead below the halls of Hogwarts."

He sighed.

"I almost refused to believe the stories about the basilisk and the Chamber," he admitted ruefully. "Until I saw the remnants of that awful creature, it seemed so outrageous a tale."

"Didn't want to give Harry credit for killing it is what you're actually saying?" she laughed.

He shuddered. "I watched him so carefully all through your first year here, watching to make sure that Quirrell did not act prematurely and try to harm him. And the next year? He goes after a basilisk, for Merlin's sake, and takes which teacher with him? The fool of a fraud who, not only was no help, but also attacked him and Weasley in the process! He could easily have been killed many times over!"

"He nearly was," Hermione pointed out. "He was pierced with a fang. Fawkes saved him."

Snape looked at her in surprise. "I didn't know that."

"He only mentioned it briefly to me. I don't think he particularly relishes the memory of anything about that night."

She turned to lie on the couch on which they sat, resting her head in his lap. He looked momentarily surprised, but brought a tentative hand to her hair.

"Do you really think it could all be over soon?" she asked quietly.

He sighed heavily. "It could," he murmured, "but I greatly fear the cost at which the end will come."

"What will you do? If he's killed, and you are able to come out of hiding?"

Snape gave a dry laugh. "I haven't thought," he said wryly. "I haven't been able to lead a normal life in seven years, and the ten before that were pretty abnormal as well. The last thing that's been on my mind is what I would do if the Dark Lord were no longer an object; I never really expected to outlive him anyway."

Hermione frowned and looked up at him, and Snape recognized the harshness of his comment.

"While I was spying," he pointed out, "and death was always a moment away."

"Right…" she sighed. "Sometimes I wonder what I'd be doing now if I'd not accepted my Hogwarts invitation."

"Well," he murmured, stroking her hair softly. "I'd be most displeased. Not least because I'd have been dead six months ago."

"Maybe, maybe not," she pondered. "It's like changing time- you can't foresee all of the possibilities."

"Then let it suffice to say that I'm rather glad you did accept the invitation."

* * *

Soon it was the first of September, and Hermione felt a terrible pang of longing as Ginny left for the Hogwarts express, albeit a bit sullenly. For her part, Ginny was bitter about going to school when Ron didn't have to, but as Ron pointed out, that was because he was helping Harry defeat a 'crazy raving nutter' and Ginny relented a little.

What Hermione found most depressing of all was that this would have been her last year- her last train ride, last journey on the thestral-drawn carriages, last sorting feast… but who knew, maybe she'd be able to make up her seventh year after Voldemort was dead.

Early in the morning, Hermione had ventured to Grimmauld Place to wish a farewell to Ginny. Once the crew taking her to Kings Cross had left, however, the place felt strangely empty. Kingsley was gone to teach, McGonagall would be at the school all the time now; Tonks, Lupin, and Moody were escorting Ginny, along with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and Professor Dumbledore was going to watch over the journeying students discreetly. The elder Weasley sons were there in the morning to see Ginny as well, but then went to work, with the exception of Percy who was still relatively restricted to Grimmauld Place.

After the escort group had returned from the train station and Mrs. Weasley was making lunch, Hermione sat in the drawing room with Harry and Ron, feeling nostalgic together, but somewhat excited; now that the students were returning to school, plans could be set in motion to hopefully find and destroy the remaining horcruxes; the muggle-born students had made it successfully to the Salem Academy, according to Everitt, who had stopped by the night before to inform Hermione of such.

For his part, Everitt had been keeping a low profile since the incident at Malfoy Manor. He'd admitted his name, finally, and Voldemort's people would know he was working in some capacity with those close to Dumbledore and Harry. He still planned to teach Transfiguration, however, for which Hermione was glad. If another staff vacancy occurred, she feared that Voldemort would finally manage to worm another of his spies into it.

Shortly before lunch was due, the three were surprised by Snape's appearance in the drawing room.

"Well, Miss Granger, I'd started to fear that you'd decided that your education couldn't be put on hold after all." She shot him a wry grin.

"Tempting," she smirked, "but the thought of leaving you alone to run your labs held me at bay."

He snorted. "As if I haven't been managing alone for nigh on twenty years?"

"Well, you're more experienced now, making more complicating potions," she said wisely. "Makes sense that you'd need a helping hand now." She paused for a beat. "Are you going to stay for lunch?"

Everyone in the room turned to look at her.

"What? Come now, surely you must celebrate the first September the first in which you've not been sitting at Hogwarts, dreading the imminent arrival of hundreds of dunderheads in what- sixteen years?"

"Perhaps," he said dryly. "I'm afraid I have things which need attending at the moment, however, so--"

His excuse was punctuated by a sudden commotion from the general area of the entry way. He started and then turned back and shot a questioning look towards Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who all looked just as bewildered as he. Together, they made their way to the entry and were met with a surprising site.

Dumbledore was there, supporting a faint-looking witch, a tall woman of an austere demeanor. She turned, startled, as the four newcomers entered the room, and stopped in shock; then, reflexively it seemed, she brought her wand to bear. Snape drew his defensively, and took an involuntary step in front of Hermione.

"Madam Bones?" Harry asked.

She turned to him in even more surprise, though it ebbed quickly away.

"I suppose I should not be surprised to see you here, Mr. Potter," she stated factually, lowering her wand again, but eyeing Snape with a lack of comprehension that Hermione soon understood. As did Dumbledore.

"My apologies, Amelia," he said quickly, "I'm sure seeing Severus here is a bit of a shock, and for more reasons than one."

"Quite," she agreed.

"Suffice it to say that he is alive, well, and his loyalties do NOT lie with Voldemort. It is also worth mentioning that he and Miss Granger here are responsible for the potion that saved your life today."

She looked at Hermione, who stepped out from behind Snape, with mild interest.

"Such as it is," Dumbledore continued, "it seems that's a story for another time." He turned his attention to four standing opposite them, who moved aside to let him and Madam Bones pass. He led her back to the parlor and sat her down, and some of the color returned to her face. "It seems that Voldemort decided to take advantage of today, not to attack the students, as we feared he might, but to get rid of some nuisances at the Ministry since Order security has largely been concentrated on the Hogwarts Express and at Hogwarts."

Ron went pale, but Dumbledore held up a hand and smiled reassuringly.

"Your father is fine- he was not at work yet. He received a message from your eldest brother after departing Kings Cross, and was at Gringotts conferring with him."

Ron sighed heavily in relief.

"Severus," Dumbledore murmured, "a restorative draught might be in order…?" Indeed, Madam Bones did look rather weary and faint.

"I'll get it," Hermione quickly left the room, apparated to Snape's labs, found the requested brew, and hurried back.

When she was more recovered, and with a grateful nod towards Hermione, Madam Bones told the story of what happened. It seemed that a group of death eaters had been lying in wait for her when she left the Ministry for a lunch break. They'd attacked discreetly, from behind, hitting her with three killing curses moments after she exited the building. To Hermione, it sounded as though the same thing that had happened with Ron probably saved Madam Bones' life; the surprise that she had not died gave her the time she needed to seek shelter, get a message to Dumbledore, and fight them off until he arrived.

"Did you get them?" Harry asked.

"Alas, we did not," Dumbledore told him gravely. "They left immediately upon my apparition to the scene."

"You say you were hit with three curses?" Snape questioned, eyes glittering. She nodded. "And was there any immediate physical response?"

She thought a moment. "It…took the wind out of me, knocked me off my feet," she said slowly. "After that, I don't remember- I suspect the adrenaline slowed the onset of faintness that I felt when I arrived here."

"Interesting…" he examined her as best he could without being too prying, and she began to look rather discomfited.

Hermione spoke up. "We're still working out some of the finer details," she explained. "Obviously this isn't a potion we can really test repeatedly on humans, so every time it comes in useful, it's good to see what effect it has."

"And it has thus far been completely successful?"

"More or less," Snape replied slowly. "I was its first test, and I was nearly killed- the Dark Lord most assuredly thought so," he said dryly, and Madam Bones nodded in understanding. "But from that we were able to alter it to make it what it now is."

"This is the first time, however," Dumbledore said, "that the would-be assassins have escaped, having seen their target survive not one, but three curses. The results could prove… interesting…" his eyes darted to Snape, who met his gaze calmly.

"It will assuredly give Lucius and Bellatrix much more to consider," he agreed with something akin to dark delight showing on his features.

**A/N: muahaha. Getting down to it…discussing the last of the horcruxes…will the world learn the truth about Snape soon? Ah! **

**Until next time (heavens knows when that'll be…man, the semester is about to get busy)**

**Cheers!**


	27. Chapter 26

**Disclaimer: Would that I were as talented as the fine Ms. Rowling. As I am not, suffice it to say that I am borrowing and taking a little creative license with her stories. **

**Chapter 26**

"Yaxley." The high, cold voice was dreadful, and the addressed man attempted to subdue his shaking frame. "Come forth."

He walked forward on teetering legs, fearful of the punishment which undoubtedly awaited his failure.

"How is it," Voldemort's voice cut through him like steel, "that I send three- three of you!- against one witch, outside the protection of the Ministry walls…and you fail me? This may have been our only chance! _Crucio!_"

Yaxley fell to the ground, screaming and writhing in pain. His torture was short-lived, however, when McNair stepped forth and spoke haltingly.

"My lord," he said slowly, "it was the strangest sight we three ever did see. I'm not sure I can even begin to understand, to explain…"

"Try," hissed the cold voice.

"We cursed her," he stammered. "All at once. It was as though she were under some sort of shield, but that's not quite right either, because the spells knocked her to the ground."

"And?" his voice was deadly. "Why did you not take this opportunity to kill her?"

"But that's what I'm saying, my lord. We _hit_ her with the killing curse. Three of them!" he exclaimed. "And she fell, rolled over, and took up a defensive position which we were hard pressed to reach her through. We were too shocked to react more quickly, and in that, we have assuredly failed you." He bowed his head, waiting for his own punishment, but it didn't come. Voldemort was looking at him ponderously.

"You say she fell to the ground…but immediately regained herself?" he queried softly.

"Yes, my lord."

A flicker of uncertainty was nigh unreadable on Voldemort's face.

"It is not possible," he finally declared. "You three, you did something. Failed me in some regard, displayed your ineptitude before the most powerful remaining Ministry official who is not under my thumb…"

"But my lord," Yaxley tried to interrupt.

"Silence!" he roared. "Out of my sight, all of you!" he demanded of the half dozen other death eaters who were standing in a semi-circle around him. With brief glances amongst themselves, they withdrew and apparated.

Upon arriving back at Malfoy Manor, Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange shot each other wary looks.

"Should we have told him…?"

"No." Bellatrix was adamant. "The repercussions, if our lord found out…"

"But if Severus is still alive somehow…"

"Then think of the implications on your son!" she snapped. Malfoy paled slightly. "If he is alive, which I highly doubt, he is obviously not the Dark Lord's. _If_ he somehow survived the killing curse… think, Lucius! Draco delivered his body to Hogwarts. If suspicion falls on the verity of Severus's death, suspicion falls on Draco. Has he ever accounted for what occurred when he returned to the castle?"

"I…yes. I mean, he said he found Dumbledore, explained what had happened to the best of his ability, displaced as much blame upon himself as possible…"

"Hm…" Bellatrix pondered this. "Yes, Dumbledore is a forgiving fool who likes to believe the best in people. He would have taken Draco at his word that he had no choice in the matter. Though how he shut up Granger, Potter, and the Weasley boy, I have no idea…"

"Is everything alright?" Narcissa Malfoy came gliding gracefully into the room, concern etched on her face.

"There was an attempt on Amelia Bones' life today," Lucius explained smoothly. "Taking Yaxley and McNair at their words- which I do- she was struck by three killing curses…and did not die."

"How can that be?" she frowned.

Bellatrix responded darkly. "How can it be that the grounds gate registered Severus Snape entering two weeks ago?"

"You…you don't think…?"

"I don't know," Bellatrix bit sharply. "I just don't know, Cissy. But it does seem that something more is going on here than the Dark Lord knows or comprehends."

Lucius changed the subject abruptly. "Draco made it safely on the train?" he asked his wife.

She nodded. "Yes. He asked me to bid you both farewell, and that he will see you come the holidays."

"Very well," Lucius sighed heavily. "Very well."

* * *

It didn't take Draco Malfoy long to come to the same conclusions which his father and aunt had reached following the attack on Amelia Bones.

No one else knew about the incident at the manor the month prior. But what if Bellatrix told the tale in hopes of having some light shed on the matter by the Dark Lord? What if the Dark Lord came to suspect that Snape was still alive, however much of a long shot it might seem? It wouldn't be much of a jump from there, Draco assumed, to get him involved. He'd 'brought his body back to Hogwarts' after all. If anyone would have known he wasn't dead, surely they'd suspect him right away?

He realized that he'd need to provide a better form of insurance. And so, on the third night of the new term, he ventured to the headmistress's office under the excuse of prefect duties.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Malfoy?" McGonagall asked, looking up over the sheaf of parchments she was going over.

"I need to speak with Professor Snape, ma'am."

She looked piercingly at him over her glasses and put the parchment down.

"Might I inquire as to why?"

He sensed that she was genuinely curious, and not merely seeking a reason to deny his request. "With the failed attack on Madam Bones," he explained, "theories may start coming to light about Professor Snape's survival, especially after he left traces of his presence at Malfoy Manor last month when recovering Granger and Professor Everitt."

"Hm…" she pondered this. "Severus has undoubtedly realized this as well…" she looked at him carefully. "But you fear that line of questioning will eventually lead back to you?" she guessed.

He nodded. "I need to learn how to alter the truth through occlumency," he told her. "To protect both him and myself, should my aunt or the Dark Lord demand it of me."

"I see," she said brusquely. "I will convey that fear to him," she decided, "and will get back to you regarding a time to meet him."

"Thank you, professor."

* * *

"You should leave."

"I- what?" Hermione turned to Snape in confusion.

"The last time Draco was here, he preferred minimal interaction beyond what was necessary," he said smoothly. "If he's anxious and fearing for his life right now, I'd like to respect his wishes on the matter."

Hermione eyed him suspiciously. "Is that really what this is about?"

"What do you mean?" his tone was low and flat.

"Just…nothing," she answered tartly. "Nothing at all." She stood abruptly from the chair in which she'd been sitting. "I'll be at Grimmauld Place."

"Hermione…" but she was gone.

When Draco arrived twenty minutes later, Snape was immersed in thought. Draco's appearance startled him out of his reverie.

"So as I understand it, you wish to learn how to lie through occlumency." Draco nodded. "I admit, it is difficult to do, but a strong-minded individual can master the technique." He led him over to a table upon which sat Dumbledore's pensieve. "When starting out, it is first helpful to rid your mind of the memory which you wish to replace or alter. You should start with arriving in the Forbidden Forest, up through meeting those members of the Order waiting at my house back in April."

Wand tip to his temple, Draco slowly extracted the described segment of memory and watched it slowly sink down to the stone basin.

"Now- you need to develop a plausible counter story. The difficulty is in detail and consistency. You're walking to the castle- how are you transporting my body? Are you transporting it? How do you get in? Are the gates locked? Do you meet anyone in the entrance hall? What are you feeling? Thinking? What are the appropriate reactions of those you encounter?"

Trying to remember all of this, Draco thought about that night. He had been shocked to see Voldemort murder Snape, terrified and confused upon his arrival on the outskirts of the forest. So that part should be easy enough without trying to invent emotion. But what then?

When he thought he was ready, Draco opened his eyes.

"Alright. Now what you must do is focus on that memory alone, bring only that to the front of your mind; any more or less, and you risk giving something away. I will attempt to access just that memory for the moment. Are you ready?"

Draco grunted an affirmative and braced himself.

"_Legilimens_."

He struggled to keep the memory in place. He was in the forest, with Snape's body beside him. He got shakily to his feet and levitated the 'corpse' behind him, making his way out of the forest. As he focused on the false memory in his mind, though, a thought occurred. What about Hagrid's cabin? He'd have had to skirt around it so as not to be seen or heard by Fang.

The memory started to lose focus and jump around. Snape withdrew.

"That was a start," he acknowledged. "Hopefully it drew some greater details to your mind. Focus, and we'll try again…"

* * *

Hermione sat in the Grimmauld Place library pouring over her favorite book: _Hogwarts: A History_. If Voldemort were going to make a horcrux out of something of Ravenclaw's, or perhaps something that signified Ravenclaw…

But the only suggestion of a truly telling heirloom was the lost diadem. And that, according to all veritable sources, 'has not been seen in living memory.'

The same trouble arose from Gryffindor. The only physical belongings which had survived the test of time were his sword, forged with basilisk venom, and the sorting hat. And the sorting hat was most assuredly _not_ a horcrux.

But Dumbledore was so convinced that another horcrux was out there to complement Slytherin's locket and Hufflepuff's cup. Even if Voldemort never succeeded in a seventh, there was still a sixth out there which remained a complete mystery to all involved in their destruction. And then there was the matter of where Voldemort could have hidden a horcrux in the walls of Hogwarts. The Chamber of Secrets seemed a likely location, but would he have dared enter it again when he needed to leave the castle hastily? Unlikely. Besides, she suspected that Dumbledore and Snape had kept their eyes peeled for any suggestion of such a thing when they ventured there on the thirty-first of July.

The Slytherin common room? A password would be required. The Room of Requirement? Too accessible. Yet she could think of few other places that would both serve as a good hiding place and have some sort of meaning. Maybe, somewhere in the recesses of the Chamber after all…

Her musings were interrupted by the opening of the door. She looked up to see Snape walk in slowly and approach her.

"Severus," she acknowledged quietly.

"Hermione. Forgive me for our misunderstanding earlier. You were right to assume that I had an ulterior motive in keeping you and Draco separated."

Her eyes narrowed. "And that motive would be…?"

"I feared that he may have learned the full extent of what happened when you were recently captive. I desired to be aware of what he knew, if anything, before you, lest you should be caught off guard on such a difficult subject."

"Oh." Well that wasn't what she'd expected at all. "Well?"

"He gave no indication that Lucius relayed the full story; indeed, I wonder if he'd even maintain the ploy if he knew. I doubt he'd ever speak to his father again."

"And would you tell him that he were allowing himself to be too easily guided by his emotions?" she asked, part challenge, part teasing.

His eyes shifted and she felt locked under his gaze.

"I would say that there are times at which we cannot help but be ruled by them."

"Oh?" she laughed lightly. "That's a change for you."

His eyes darkened. "I've been forced to undergo many changes of late," he said lowly. "My life took an unexpected turn."

"With your 'death'?" she asked.

"With you," he amended. She stopped short and stared at him. "You asked me recently what I'd do, once the Dark Lord was destroyed."

She nodded.

"I'd do things the way they should have been done," he murmured. "I'd publish our potion under both of our names, and we'd split the revenue if you so desired. I'd help you prepare for your N.E.W.T.s, or help you finish your education as it should have been.

"More importantly thought," he kneeled before her and grasped one of her hands, "I'd not care who knew my true feelings for you, and if I did, you wouldn't be in even more danger than you already are at present.

"I'm a man living on borrowed time, Hermione. Surely you can see that. But if I make it through this, things will be done as they ought."

She smiled through tears, and drew him up into a tight hug. Neither noticed the pair of extendable ears slip silently through the crack under the door.

**A/N: Yay for productive writing day. :-) **

**I'm really getting excited about this story… I mean, I was already of course…but I love seeing an end in sight, even if it requires binoculars. ;-P**

**I like reviews. *wink wink* **

**Cheers!**


	28. Chapter 27

**Disclaimer: :-( **

**Chapter 27**

He drew her trembling body down on top of his own. He placed gentle kisses along the line of her nightgown, across her shoulders, and eventually up her neck. She closed her eyes and sighed contentedly, melting into his touch. Her breathing deepened as his lips found hers and his hands caressed her face and ran through her hair.

With one swift motion, he rolled them so that his body partially covered hers. She squealed in surprise until his mouth reclaimed hers- and then froze.

He'd slid one shoulder of her nightgown down, exposing her collarbone and gently running a hand up her arm and cupping her face. He tensed when she froze though, and backed off.

"What's wrong?" he asked worriedly.

"I- nothing. It's just… you touched some of my scars, that's all. Or at least where they would be," she blushed, feeling she sounded silly. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," he said more forcefully than he'd intended. He relaxed though and leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to the precise spot where one of the deepest cuts had begun. She smiled softly.

"Thank you," she whispered. "I just don't think I'm quite ready for- well…"

Wordlessly, he fixed her nightgown properly, and then leaned down close to her ear.

"There's nothing wrong with that," he murmured. "Nothing at all."

And he proceeded to kiss her again, and to touch her face as he had before. Slower and gentler this time, to be sure, but all-in-all, they both had an enjoyable night.

* * *

"Shove off, little bro," Fred dismissed Ron with a wave of his hand.

"Wha- you guys are hardly ever around anymore, and then you're just going to kick me and Harry out of the room without another word?"

George stopped and looked pensive. "You're right. We apologize, Harry," he said sincerely. "Now out."

They left, Ron grumbling all the way.

"Dunno what they could be doing that's so important- probably just more joke shop stuff that they want to keep top secret…"

Once the door was securely shut, locked, and silencing charms were placed upon it, Fred turned to George.

"What do you think?" he asked seriously.

George paused. "It's none of our business," he finally declared firmly. "_But_…"

"Exactly what I was thinking," Fred agreed. "We need to make sure."

"See if anything suspicious is going on."

"Discreetly, though."

"Obviously."

"Tomorrow then?"

"I think so. We ought to be able to corner her at some point…"

"Nicely, though."

"Of course."

* * *

"Oy- Hermione!"

She turned in surprise. On her way up to Harry and Ron's room, a voice had called out quietly from the lower landing.

"Yes, Fred?" He looked taken aback.

"How'd you-?"

"Ginny taught me the secret," she smirked. "Now what's going on?"

"Can George and I have a quick word?"

She was intrigued to say the least. If anything, Fred looked apprehensive- not an attitude one usually associated with the twins. Maybe one of their creations had gone drastically wrong and they thought she might help them fix it.

"Alright then."

She followed him across the landing to the room which he and George shared. George smiled upon her arrival, but seemed equally anxious as his brother. She took a seat and looked around the room, not seeing any immediate signs to indicate why they wanted to speak with her.

"What's up?" she asked again.

George took a deep breath. "Well," he began, "first we'd like to apologize."

"Oh?"

"Yes," Fred took up seriously. "There was a bit of an…erm…accident last night."

"We were testing a new product you see," George said. Hermione raised a brow. What had they gotten themselves into?

"And what type of product is this exactly?" her eyes narrowed.

"A variation on the extendable ears," he explained smoothly. "With a special charm which enables one to play back what the ears heard, even if they did not have the other end at the time."

"Ah…" Hermione did not see where this was going.

"The benefit being, of course, that one could leave one hidden in a private place for an extended period of time and then listen to what was said through that whole time."

"Sounds useful," she admitted. "But what's this got to do with me?"

"Well," Fred said slowly, "as part of our initial test, we hid a few around Grimmauld Place… in the parlor…"

"The entry way…"

"The library…"

Neither missed the sudden tensing of Hermione's posture.

"I don't think we really need to tiptoe around this," George broke in. "Yes, whatever it is you're thinking Hermione is what we heard."

"When we realized who was in the library, we removed them…"

"But the damage was done, so to speak," he finished seriously. "And so, Hermione…"

"We honestly just want to make sure that there's nothing…funny…going on."

"I- what?" she frowned, not comprehending.

Fred held up his hands. "We accept that it's none of our business, don't get us wrong. But we really do have your best interests at heart, love, and if there's something not _right_ about the situation between you and…Snape- say he approached you while still at school for instance...?"

"Oh!" Hermione flushed deeply, and the two in front of her turned a bit red as well. "No! I mean there's nothing like that… nothing happened before…"

"So that's a no then?"

"Absolutely not," she did her best to appear reassuring despite the shock. "He's done nothing remotely of the sort."

"Wonderful," they both did look truly relieved. Hermione figured it was partly because of what she'd told them, but mostly because they just didn't want to deal with the awkwardness of the topic anymore.

"Look," she said, "I appreciate that you're concerned and all. But there's more to why no one but Dumbledore- not even Harry and Ron- is aware of the…situation…"

"Won't tell a soul," both twins held up his right hand. "Already destroyed that ear anyway. Just in case."

Relief flooded her. "Thanks."

"I think it's safe to say that nothing ever needs be said on the subject again," George looked distinctly uncomfortable.

"Hm," Hermione looked ponderous. "Well just to be sure, I'll probably need to _obliviate_ both of you… kidding, kidding!"

* * *

She sneaked up behind him while he was putting the last books on the shelf in the lab. Waiting until the right moment, when his arms were raised above his head as he sought to replace the book properly, she slid her arms around his waist…and quickly found herself spun around and trapped between him and the bookcase. She grinned and he kissed her deeply before releasing her and returning to his work cleaning up for the night.

"Having fun down here?" she asked, noting the different cauldrons which were presently simmering; it seemed that two different Wolfsbane batches were brewing, as well as the 'Grape' potion.

"As much as ever," he replied wryly. "Was your evening…satisfactory?" She laughed as he tried not to sound too unenthused with the concept of voluntarily spending time with Harry and Ron.

"It was," she nodded. "Also a bit…odd," she told him. "I have to tell you about something- I don't think it'll be a problem, but you'd want to know."

His eyebrow quirked. He headed towards the stairs and beckoned her to follow. "And what exactly would this 'something' be?"

"Fred and George Weasley."

He paused. "How do I know I won't like this?" he muttered, and she grinned in spite of herself.

"Well, they're up to their usual tricks, and testing them out at Grimmauld Place. Anyway, they have a new thing they're trying out, a sort of magical recording device…and, well, they left one in the library last night."

He took a sharp breath, froze, and then turned sharply to face her.

"That is…inconvenient," he ground out. "Who have they told?"

"No one," she assured him. "They only brought it up to me because they wanted to make sure that…um…" she giggled. "To make sure that your intentions were honorable, such as it were."

His lips quirked slightly before his face resumed its usual impassivity. "And what exactly did you tell them?" he asked softly, walking slowly closer to her.

"That they were, of course," she laughed. He pounced.

"Never," he whispered as he kissed her throat, up her neck to her ear, finally capturing her lips, "assume anything."

She shrieked as he swung her into his arms and carried her the rest of the way to her room.

* * *

It was late, and they lay side-by-side in Hermione's bed, talking.

"It will happen next weekend."

Hermione's heart fluttered in anxiousness. "Why then?"

"It is the first Hogsmeade weekend. The school will be nearly emptied, which is essential if we are to have myself, Potter, and Albus wandering it. Not to mention yourself, you muggle-born wretch."

She smacked him lightly on the arm.

"And what exactly is the goal of next weekend's mission to the school?" she asked, making sure she had her timeline straight.

"The attempt to discover if, in fact, the Dark Lord hid a horcrux there the night he returned to request the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. If so- if we can find it- obviously this is ideal, but it will necessarily speed up the timeline of the rest of the mission. Including the inevitable confrontation," Snape sighed heavily and stared up at the ceiling.

"If not?"

"If not…" he absent-mindedly ran a finger down her arm, spinning meaningless patterns across her open palm. "If not, I will begin to fear for Draco a great deal more than I already do."

"Why? He's already key to getting Voldemort to reveal to Harry where at least one horcrux is."

"He needs a more definitive line to run by him than merely to say that he saw Albus and Potter in the school wielding the sword of Gryffindor or some such. If he speaks up too early, it will become much more immediately obvious that he is trying to bait him, I suspect."

"I suppose we'll have to find it then," Hermione said matter-of-factly.

Snape snorted lightly. "Well put."

She hesitated before voicing her next thoughts. "Do you sometimes get the feeling that there's something pretty significant that Professor Dumbledore isn't telling to the rest of us?" she finally asked.

"He's always been like that," he waved a hand dismissively.

"No, I know," she corrected herself. "But this is different. Since he disappeared, the day before Voldemort got the Elder Wand…" she stopped, thinking hard. "Speaking of which, did he ever mention where he'd gone?" she asked suspiciously.

"All he said was that he was going 'to visit an old friend' or some such unhelpful drabble," Snape plied.

"Informative."

"Quite," he agreed. "But one must understand that this is how he operates. Perhaps I understand it better than most, having served in a capacity in which secrecy and protection of information was vital; but if there is something that he doesn't want widely known, he will keep that close to his chest until the proper time. Bear in mind Potter's inability to occlude his mind," he pointed out.

"Well it makes me uneasy," Hermione admitted. "But I do trust his judgment."

"I've learned over the course of time that this is the best stance on the matter to take."

"Hm…" she pondered that for a while, and together they sank into companionable silence. After a while, Snape shifted and drew her closer to him, wrapping an arm comfortingly around her shoulders. Within minutes, she started to doze off, comfortable in his embrace.

When she was almost asleep, he leaned over and placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

"Hermione?"

"Mm…" she was drifting in and out of consciousness.

"It's midnight."

"And?" she asked sleepily.

"Happy birthday."

**A/N: :-) Glad I got this up- I'm leaving for Texas again tomorrow, so depending on a certain someone else's work schedule, you might not be hearing from me for another week or so. Sorry! **

**Hope you enjoyed- chapters are getting a little fluffier.. ;-) **

**Oh, and lastly, it occurs to me that the September timeline might seem a little rushed- they just started school again a chapter ago. But let's just bear with the author for now. That's what later, all-out editing is for. :P **

**Cheers!**


	29. Chapter 28

**A/N: Sorry for the delay- the trip to Texas was followed by an impromptu trip back home early for Thanksgiving, and so I had a lot of work to get done earlier than expected last week… this week, I've been getting papers worked on for next week at school, and to top it all off, got sick on Thanksgiving, and spent most of yesterday and today laid up on the couch with a horrendous headache. HOWEVER, feeling better, so on I go… **

**Chapter 28**

Hermione, Harry, Ron, Snape, Dumbledore, and McGonagall stood around McGonagall's office. Hermione noted that it didn't really look much different from when it had been Dumbledore's office, and she wondered if McGonagall wasn't planning to be in the position for very long.

She also felt bad- McGonagall had no earthly clue what it was that they were looking for, why they were in Hogwarts at all, why it was so vital to search the school thoroughly- but like Snape, she knew when to trust Dumbledore and not ask questions, and this seemed to be one of those times.

After a few minutes of deliberation with her, she left to go talk with the teachers and prefects who were chaperoning the Hogsmeade weekend, leaving the five who knew about the horcruxes to talk amongst themselves.

"Visiting the Chamber of Secrets once more would not be amiss," Snape suggested smoothly. "Perhaps Potter's _interesting_ abilities could shed some more light on that situation than we were able to," he indicated himself and Dumbledore.

"Yes," Dumbledore agreed, "that was one of my plans for today. I think myself and Harry should venture to the second floor first off…"

"I've been too," Ron put in. "I've been in the Chamber, I can come help." Snape rolled his eyes- all of them except Hermione had now been, after all.

"Actually, I think I would like for you to accompany Severus and Miss Granger," Dumbledore smiled at him. "They will be going to Ravenclaw Tower."

"There will be first and second years there," Hermione pointed out immediately. "We will need to find some way to empty the tower if we're to be able to get a good search in."

"Quite right," Dumbledore inclined his head. "And I will leave that task up to the three of you," his eyes twinkled. "Now, we have Harry's invisibility cloak," he held up the fine material in his left hand. "Severus, I think it will fall on you to wear this, as it is most vital that you not be seen. The rest of us shall rely on _disillusionment _charms."

Harry had the look of trying not to grimace too strongly as Dumbledore handed over his precious cloak. Hermione hid a smile as she registered a nearly identical expression on Snape's face. Some things never change.

They parted ways at the bottom of the stairs, Harry and Dumbledore turning right and the other three heading left. Snape led the way to the Ravenclaw common room, as neither Hermione nor Ron had ever been there and had no clue where it was located.

They traveled in silence, but passed no one; the school did truly seem empty, and Hermione wasn't surprised. It was a nice afternoon in September, and hopefully even the younger students would be taking advantage of the nice weather before fall hit. Eventually, however, she leaned closely between the other two- or at least where she thought they were, judging by the footsteps.

"How are we planning to check the common room and empty it if need be?" she whispered.

"I was hoping you'd thought of something," Snape replied shortly. She rolled her eyes.

They reached a statue, and Snape stopped. Hermione looked around, before concluding that the statue was probably the entrance to the common room. She turned in confusion.

"Don't you have the password?" she asked Snape. He grimaced.

"It's not that simple." He glanced around. "Unmask yourself."

"Er- okay… _finite_." She reappeared in the middle of the abandoned hallway. Looking around, she approached the statue tentatively, and jumped slightly when it began to speak.

"Which came first, the phoenix or the flame?"

She turned in confusion to the empty air behind her.

"It is not a password, it is a riddle," Snape said slowly. "To enter, you must answer correctly- or at least intelligently."

Helpful. She thought. A phoenix was born of the flame and the ashes it produced- which were caused by the death of the phoenix in the first place. She spoke tentatively. "It is a circle. It has no beginning, no end. It simply is."

The statue moved aside and Hermione let Ron and Snape move by her before stepping through herself- that way, it wouldn't close on them.

To her relief, the common room was deserted. She re-illusioned herself, just in case, however, and turned to the other two.

"Stay here," she instructed, "I'll be right back. Which side is the girls'?" she asked Snape. He pointed at the stairway on the left side and she dashed quickly up, looking for the wing marked 'sixth years.' She had a feeling, and if she was right about it…

"Luna!"

The younger girl looked interestedly at the empty but open doorway to her dorm, not seeming surprised at all to be addressed.

"Yes?" she called back in mild curiosity. Hermione uncovered herself once more. "Oh! Hermione… you didn't come back this year," her tone didn't even sound accusatory; she was merely stating a fact.

"Well, the Ministry said I couldn't, remember? Anyway, that's not important… can you do me a favor?"

"Sure," she replied good-naturedly, putting her book down.

"Great, I appreciate it," Hermione rushed on. "I need the Ravenclaw Tower emptied," she explained. "It doesn't matter how, but I need as long as possible that you can give me alone here. And it has to remain a secret, I'm not supposed to be here after all."

"Okay," Luna stood, slipped on a pair of fuzzy slippers, and exited to the staircase. Hermione recast the charm on herself and watched as Luna stuck her head into all of the girls dormitories, finally emerging into the common room with two small second years in tow. They waited, seeming rather confused, while she wandered slowly up to the boys' side, reemerging a few minutes later with three first years and another second year. She led the entire entourage out of the statue-entrance, voice trailing off behind. "…they're amazing creatures, and this is a prime time of the year…"

Ron appeared suddenly and Hermione started. She'd nearly forgotten that she wasn't alone now in the common room. Moments later, Snape appeared as well, pulling the cloak off slowly. He looked distracted though, even a little confused. Hermione shot him a questioning look, which he waved away.

"You are quite sure that Miss Lovegood can be fully trusted?" he asked silkily. Hermione exchanged a quick look with Ron, who nodded.

"Absolutely," he stated firmly. "She fought with us at the Department of Mysteries. She won't tell anyone that we were here."

"Very well…"

They began to peer around the common room, prodding at loose stones in the wall with their wands, carefully examining the statue of Rowena Ravenclaw; even if her diadem was lost forever, perhaps Riddle had seen fit to hide a horcrux in her common room as a sign of symbolism…?

But there was nothing- just a stone statue of a stern-looking witch wearing an intricate tiara. At the base of the statue was a faded inscription: _Wit beyond measure is a man's greatest treasure_. Pulling together all of her wits, however, Hermione could not seem to make any connection.

They dejectedly did a room-by-room search of the dormitories themselves, but they were working more quickly now, wary of how much time Luna would be able to buy them still. Hermione did have a brief moment of excitement when she found a loose floor-board in the seventh-year girls' wing- and then discovered it to be a hiding place for some illicit bottles of firewhiskey, and threw up her hands in exasperation.

"Perhaps Potter and Professor Dumbledore have had greater success," Snape said quietly close by Hermione, seeing her frustration show on her face. The three of them stood congregated in the dormitory, when they heard the sound of someone entering the common room below. Snape cursed under his breath and threw the cloak quickly over his shoulders once more; Ron disillusioned himself, and Hermione crept to the edge of the stairs, letting out a breath when she saw it was just Luna again.

"Hermione?" the younger girl called quietly. She stepped into view. "Ah, there you are. Did you need any more time? Some of the students want to come back…"

"No, no, it's fine," Hermione assured her. "We- I'll be going, I've done what I needed," she jerked as she felt two hands touch her arm gently, signaling to her that they were both going to stand by the entrance to the common room and wait for her to leave and let them out. Hermione dejectedly followed the two invisible people- and then stopped on a whim and turned back to Luna.

"Say, Luna… I know no one's supposed to know where it is, but do you know anything about the lost diadem of Ravenclaw?"

Luna blinked once in surprise. "It was rumored to give the wearer great powers of wisdom," she said slowly. "But as they say, _It hasn't been seen in living memory_."

Hermione sighed once more. "Thanks, Luna. You've been a great help."

* * *

After reconvening with an equally dejected Harry and Dumbledore, the group returned to Grimmauld Place. Dumbledore decided that they would give it another week before enlisting the help of Draco, in case any last minute ideas, theories, or revelations came to any of them. The five parted in low spirits, Harry and Ron returning upstairs to compare quests in greater detail, Dumbledore departing to Merlin-knew-where, and Hermione and Snape returning to Prince Manor.

They sat side-by-side on the couch, having been given two hot cups of tea upon their arrival; Harmony seemed to sense their melancholy mood. Knowing there was no point in rehashing the utter waste of a day, Hermione couldn't help but feel that she was overlooking something important- something extremely important. But there was nothing. Nothing in Ravenclaw Tower hinted to the presence of Ravenclaw's lost heirloom or _any_ horcrux; nothing in the Chamber gave any more hints of dark, evil magic, and a thorough exploration of the catacombs, even with the aid of Fawkes, had turned up nothing. And yet, Hermione felt that there was some connection between the two places, and it was just beyond her grasp to make it…

A hand on her knee brought her back into the real world.

"Deep in thought," Snape noticed. "Care to share?"

"No, I- it's nothing really," she struggled to explain. "Just the feeling that I should understand something that I don't… I'm not sure if I'm actually overlooking something, or if it's just me wanting to find whatever that horcrux is."

He nodded slowly. "I think I understand," he confessed. "And I do believe that Albus has a similar feeling- that is why he waits to enact the next stage of his plan."

She shook her head in frustration. "It's ridiculous!" she exclaimed. "I can't imagine what I could possibly know about it… but I just have this feeling…"

"Sleep would be prudent," he suggested quietly. "Perhaps your subconscious will reveal more to you in an unconscious state than one in which you are so actively seeking to access it?"

"Maybe," she agreed wryly, and hesitated. "Join me?"

He opened his mouth to reply, thought some more, and paused.

"Not yet," he said slowly. "I actually need to confer with Albus once more today on a different matter."

"Something about which I should be concerned?" she asked shrewdly.

"Not at all," he retorted smoothly. "Just something that… materialized… today."

She smiled what she hoped was an encouraging smile. "I'm going to bed then," she said, leaning up and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you later."

And she left, plagued by the ever-present feeling that something was dangling right under her nose- something that was vitally important to the war.

**A/N: FINALLY. Sorry again for the delay. Also, I wrote the last part of that chapter drugged up on Nyquil, so I hope it's grammatically alright. :P **

**Let's see… definitely don't expect to hear from me again until…eh… Tuesday night at best, but probably not until later in the week. **

**Thanks for reading, thanks for reviews, and thanks for patience. :-) **

**Cheers!**


	30. Chapter 29

**Disclaimer: Sadly, I have not yet been able to steal the rights to Harry Potter. Damn! **

**Chapter 29**

Albus Dumbledore sat wearily at his desk, pensieve on the table in front of him, shelf full of memories, hundreds of memories, behind him. Those memories pertained to several subjects, but two alone stood out above all else.

How long had he spent, seeking information about what Voldemort had done to himself after leaving Hogwarts, how had he spent his days, delving into darkness, learning secrets of the Dark Arts that had been nearly lost centuries earlier?

In truth, it had been a good distraction. But now, when the life of a young, good, innocent boy was at stake… not to mention the hundreds of good people who had already met death at the hands of Voldemort… and the boy's parents…

"The cloak, Albus." Severus Snape sat quietly across the room. Dumbledore looked up at him blankly, having nearly forgotten his presence while lost in his own thoughts.

He sighed. "It is good for you to have noticed it, finally," Dumbledore told him seriously. "I need someone to tell, someone to help me, if need should arise.. someone to assuage my own guilt at what I did all those years ago…"

"You're rambling," Snape broke in, but he looked pale. What could he possibly be on about?

"Severus," Dumbledore sat up straight and looked him in the eye. "You and Harry are much more alike than you know. No," he held up a hand, "let me finish. Both coming from a difficult home to a school which opened new experiences for you- and both tormented by someone who was your opposite in every way."

"I don't follow," Snape said stiffly.

"James Potter and Draco Malfoy shared a few things in common. Not least the old lineage which the two families were able to boast, until James married Lily."

"I hardly see the relevance of this."

Dumbledore smiled. "Let me tell you a story about the Potters."

* * *

A few days went by, and Hermione was in the peak of her frustration. Not only was the clock running on the elusive, missing horcrux, but to top it all off, Snape was now acting oddly, and wouldn't divulge any reason for his sudden change in behavior. Several times though, Hermione would stumble across him, seemingly troubled and deep in thought, but if she tried to find out what bothered him, he would get short with her and essentially tell her to mind her own business.

After one such occurrence, in which Hermione left the library of Prince Manor in a frustrated huff, she found herself in Harry and Ron's room in Grimmauld Place, late at night, talking about everything and nothing.

"It's October, you know," Harry pointed out. "That means that, by the end of this month, we'll have all been best friends for six years."

"Is that all?" Hermione asked wryly. "Feels like about a century at this point, being _your_ friend," she lightly punched Harry playfully in the arm. "Not to mention the living hell that my life was _before_ the two of you deigned to be nice to me."

Ron grinned. "You did come off a little strong," he laughed. "But, ya know… nothing like shoving a wand up a troll's nose in a girl's lav to bring three people closer together…"

Harry laughed and then looked suddenly thoughtful. "You know," he said seriously, "we have spent an inordinate amount of time in girl's bathrooms over the years." Ron laughed. "What do you figure _that_ means, in the long run?"

Hermione laughed as well, and then stopped, thinking hard. There it was again. That feeling.

"We could have at least chosen one without Myrtle," Ron looked wistful. "I mean, poor thing, being murdered by a basilisk and all, but what a nut job." Harry snorted. "Was it really worth it, staying miserable and cooped up in that stall for fifty years now, just so she could get revenge against one mean bully?"

"Hey," Harry defended her humorously, "she helped us find the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets, remember. Bloody useful, having the ghosts around who have been there, you know?"

"Eh, we could have found it eventually--"

"Wait," Hermione broke in breathlessly. "Wait."

They stopped short and turned to her. "Yes?" Harry finally asked after several seconds' silence.

"That's it!" Hermione's eyes widened. "The ghosts."

"Er…what about them?" Ron was just as lost as Harry.

"They've been in the school for ages- centuries, some of them!" Hermione exclaimed excitedly. "And don't you remember what Luna told me, what all of the myths about the lost diadem say?"

Harry wracked his brains. "That it hasn't been seen in… er…?"

"_Living memory!_"

There were another several seconds of silence.

Harry spoke tentatively. "Do you really think that's what… I mean, it could just mean…"

"But why say 'living memory'?" Hermione exclaimed. "It could have just said that no one's seen it in centuries! But no- the story goes that it hasn't been seen in 'living memory'! Surely that has to mean something…"

"So what do we do?" Ron put his faith in Hermione's analysis, and she turned to him gratefully.

She thought. "We obviously need to learn the histories of the ghosts, and see if any of them might be able to help us."

"Well who is the Ravenclaw ghost?" Harry asked.

"Er…" Hermione thought hard, but had no clue. "I don't think that bit is in _Hogwarts: A History_," she admitted ruefully, wondering how she could have missed this vital piece of trivia about Hogwarts in the six years she had spent inside its walls. Gryffindor had Nearly Headless Nick; Hufflepuff, the Fat Friar; Slytherin, the Bloody Baron; and Ravenclaw…

"We could just ask Professor Snape," Ron suggested quietly.

"Oh," Hermione flushed. Obviously. "Right."

The three apparated quickly to the downstairs of Prince Manor, not taking the time to inform someone that they were leaving- the unwanted questions from people to whom they could give no answers were excuse enough to disappear for a few minutes.

Hermione stuck her head down in the lab but, upon seeing that he was not there, headed upstairs with the boys trailing silently behind her. She knew that they had never quite been comfortable here, in a domain that was solely Snape's- despite recent events, the three had never quite managed to get on pleasantly.

His bedroom door was open and he wasn't in there, so Hermione assumed he was still in the library. She walked up the last flight of stairs which opened into the vast expanse of shelves upon shelves of books.

His voice rang out as her head appeared over the edge of the landing.

"Hermione, I…" he stopped dead. "Potter," he acknowledged slowly. "Weasley."

There was an awkward and pregnant silence where all eyes shifted to Hermione, who avoided them except for the deep black eyes which sought hers carefully. With an effort, she wrenched her eyes away from his and looked carefully at a random tan book spine over his left shoulder.

"We had a sudden theory, sir, about the missing horcrux," she said quietly. "Harry?"

"Wha- oh, right. Well everything referencing the diadem of Ravenclaw specifically says that it hasn't been seen in 'living memory.' And Hermione figures that this means… well, that it could refer to the ghosts."

Snape frowned thoughtfully. "Is that so?"

She shrugged, feeling suddenly scrutinized. "Moaning Myrtle was the reason that Harry and Ron found the Chamber of Secrets in our second year," she offered. "And the phrasing… it's not lost, and I think this is the key to revealing its location."

"And where exactly did you intend to go from here?"

"Well, the reason we're _here_," Hermione lifted an eyebrow, "is to ask you who the ghost of Ravenclaw is."

Snape's frown deepened and he thought carefully.

"Sir?" Harry asked after a long silence.

"The Grey Lady," Snape offered. "But she is notorious in her…how shall I put it… rejection of the living. She does not possess the jovial presence of the Fat Friar or Nick. She is a ghost in mourning, a troubled spirit."

"Would she not help us?"

"I find it unlikely," he answered shortly. "She rarely deigns to speak to the headmaster."

"We don't have many other options," Hermione said quietly. "This could be our last chance before we risk putting Draco in a position that could place him in even more danger…"

"Couldn't we just go… talk to her?" Harry asked carefully. Snape barked in laughter.

"Potter, the five of us who are together in this quest to destroy the Dark Lord, with the possible exception of Weasley, are the five most unlikely people to be found within the halls of Hogwarts. If any of us were seen, it would place Minerva in a horrible position with the governors and the Ministry, and you want to simply waltz in to the school, summon a ghost who is known for her lack of forthcoming with even the head of the school, and attempt to pry some information from her that she may or may not have. Not to mention the relevance of anything she did know is liable to be less-than-helpful."

Harry and Ron looked chastised by Snape's spiel. Hermione, on the other hand, was angry, but she tempered herself and turned to Harry and Ron.

"Go back to Grimmauld Place," she told them in low tones. "I'll take care of it."

"But--"

"Hermione--"

"_Go_," she insisted. With a shrug and a glance at one another, they turned on the spot and apparated, leaving an angry Hermione and a skeptical Snape.

"_What_ is it?" she demanded. "You've been acting off for days now! We have an idea… an actual idea that _could_ work, which is more than you've contributed to this issue," she sounded a tad overly harsh and accusing, she thought, but plowed ahead. "Even if it does prove to be a fruitless attempt, at least we know we've exhausted all of the possible options before relying—"

"I _tried_ to say I was sorry," he finally interrupted, mildly and she stopped short. "Before I realized Potter and Weasley were with you. I know I've been less than forthcoming- and believe me, it pains me- but I need this to myself right now." He approached her slowly and, when it seemed that she didn't plan to hex him, took one of her hands in his. "You will know, one day, what troubles me so right now. But not until the matter has been resolved, I hope."

"Maybe I could help," she said quietly. He took her hand and turned it over, kissing her palm lightly, and then her fingertips.

"Not this time," he whispered. "Trust me."

She sighed ruefully. "I have this far."

"And soon, the Dark Lord will be defeated," he pointed out. "And this madness will cease."

"I'm afraid," she admitted after a minute as they sat down. He turned to look at her as though the idea had never crossed his mind.

"Of confronting him?"

"Yes. Or rather that Harry will have to. Or you."

"I will be by your side."

"And I, by Harry's," she said steadily, meeting his gaze coolly. "For as long as I can help him."

"Of course," he murmured, drawing her closer to him and burying his face in her hair. "And I would expect no less of you and your friendship."

"Then you understand why I need you to help us back into Hogwarts," she pulled away slightly so she could look up at him. "Please- if there is even the slightest chance…"

"Very well," he groaned. "But it will have to be at night. The next Hogsmeade weekend is not until Halloween, and we do not have a month to spare."

"Tomorrow?" she asked hopefully.

"I must first speak with Albus," he pointed out.

"Okay," she ceded. "I'll go tell Harry and Ron."

"It's late," he pointed out. "Will you be returning?"

"Of course," she was surprised that he'd ask, and then noticed a dark glitter in his eyes. "Didn't think I was _that_ angry with you, did you?" she asked.

"I'd hate to underestimate you," he said delicately, and she grinned wryly at him, giving him a quick hug as he pulled her to her feet.

"Good thinking."

When she was gone, Snape sat back down on the abandoned sofa, putting his head in his hands. If things didn't work out as he hoped… she'd never forgive him.

**A/N: One more week of classes and then finals. Ugh. But on the bright side- then winter break! :-D So if this isn't done by then, I can get writing done between semesters! We're nearing the end, and I'm quite excited! **

**Thanks for reviews, and keep it up! **

**Until next time,**

**Cheers!**


	31. Chapter 30

**Disclaimer: :-(**

**Chapter 30**

The sullen-looking ghost hovered on the opposite side of McGonagall's office, and Harry and Hermione exchanged a look as though debating which of them should speak first. Finally, Hermione stepped forward.

"We're sorry to bother you," she first told the pearlescent young woman, who looked even more disdainful. "But we have a very serious problem about which we need to ask you."

"I know of you." The voice was hollow and distant, and it chilled Hermione. "And I think I know what you seek- Ravenclaw's diadem. They said you were the cleverest one in the school- that you were supposed to be in _my_ house."

Hermione was remarkably taken aback at this assertion, but quickly spoke up to verify the guess of their quest.

"We _do_ seek the diadem," she assured the ghost. "Do you know of it?"

The Grey Lady scoffed. "You are just as bad as all of the other haughty students who believed themselves worthier than others to possess that which would give them an unnatural advantage over their peers, allow them to understand that which they could hardly fathom…"

"We don't want to use it though!" Hermione insisted.

The ghost began to drift away and Hermione felt her hopes sink. Snape shot her a look which she interpreted as 'told you so.'

"I cannot help you."

She almost made it to the wall, to wander through into the next room over when Harry spoke up.

"Wait."

The ghost paused.

"Do you know me?" Harry asked.

"Of course," she answered slowly. "Harry Potter… the one who is to defeat the Dark Lord…" she looked torn. "But the diadem will not help you in your endeavor."

"Then you _do_ know something of it?" Harry pressed.

"Of course," she sighed. "I am the reason it was 'lost.' I stole it- from my mother."

"Your mother!" Hermione gasped, and the ghost turned a derisive eye back on her.

"Yes- I was Helena Ravenclaw; my mother was the founder of our great house."

"Listen," Harry approached her slowly. "We have reason to believe that Voldemort sought the diadem and used it in a way which, unless we can find it and destroy it, will make him immortal. We think that, if he were able to find it, he used it to encase a part of his soul. Without the diadem, we have no hope of destroying him once and for all."

Hermione shot a look at Snape and noticed the tension on his face at the amount which Harry had revealed to the ghost.

"You wish to…destroy… my mother's heirloom?"

"We have to. If Riddle found it somehow, if he were able to turn it into a horcrux…the only way he can be killed is by destroying all of his soul."

The spirit of Helena looked diminished somehow; she closed her translucent eyelids for a few seconds before turning her gaze on Harry and Harry alone.

"I was jealous of my mother," she admitted. "I stole the diadem in the hopes that I could become just as wise as she; I ran away then, fearing her retribution when she discovered it was missing, but she never told anyone. She didn't want people to begin to doubt her because she'd lost it.

"But as she grew older and knew she was dying, her last wish was to see me once more; so she sent a young man after me, one who had been in love with me, but whom I'd rejected when I ran away. She sent him to find me, and he tracked me far- all the way to the forests of Albania."

And slowly, the pieces began to fill in.

"I hid the diadem in a tree, knowing that the Baron would soon catch up with me."

"The Baron?" Hermione was surprised to hear Snape speak up.

"Yes," she answered resignedly. "The 'Bloody' Baron; he found me, urged me to return; I refused. He grew angry and in a fit of rage, stabbed me." She moved her cloak aside to reveal a wound of gleaming silver on her chest. "Seeing what he'd done, he then killed himself, and has been wearing chains of penitence ever since. As well he should," she added bitterly.

"I'm sorry," Harry murmured. "But thank you for telling your story." He paused. "It's not the first time you've told it either, is it?"

She looked away, seeming mortified.

"Don't be embarrassed," Harry told her. "Riddle could be very persuasive when he wanted to be; charming, even."

She nodded.

"We won't bother you anymore; but to know that Riddle did learn that it was in Albania- and we know he spent many years in Albania after graduating Hogwarts- we now know that it was the diadem- you have been helpful beyond imagining."

"Of course," she whispered. "Best of luck to you, Harry Potter…" and she faded away through the wall, leaving the room in a semi-stunned silence. Harry stared off after her for several seconds before turning back to Hermione, Ron, and Snape. He looked very emotional, and Hermione surmised that Helena Ravenclaw's story had touched him deeply.

"We know that the sixth horcrux was the diadem," he told them definitively. "And we know Riddle came back to Hogwarts almost immediately upon his return from abroad…" he paused. "And I think I know where he would have put the horcrux."

"You do?" Ron and Hermione looked at him incredulously.

"Of course," he whispered, more to himself than anybody. "Think about it: he's visiting the school to request the job, and leaves on bad terms. He doesn't have time to linger and go out of his way- but what is on the very same floor as this office? What room, that Riddle would have been arrogant enough to believe that he alone was able to find…?"

"The Room of Requirement!" Hermione exclaimed.

Harry nodded grimly. "It'd be the perfect hiding place because, let's face it, you could transform the room nearly however you wanted it to keep it hidden."

"But why would the Dark Lord put the diadem in a room to which any student or teacher had access?" Snape asked skeptically.

"Like I said, he was arrogant beyond belief. He alone discovered the secrets of Slytherin's hidden chamber; he worked out the horcruxes, he tracked down the remnants of his family and murdered them. He was very clever, and so much so that he began to be overconfident in his own cleverness."

"Then it shouldn't be that difficult to find the room in which he hid the horcrux," Hermione reasoned. "If he thought it inaccessible to other students, and all he needed was a hiding place…"

"It's worth a shot," Ron shrugged.

Snape groaned and put his head in his hands. "This is more than I signed up for," he told them all warningly. "If the three of you are seen, much less myself…"

"Then where's Professor Dumbledore?" Harry asked exasperatedly.

"Discussing the evacuation of this school with Minerva," Snape responded steadily. "So that, when the Dark Lord is inevitably lured here, we do not have third years with delusions of grandeur trying to fight death eaters."

Harry pondered for a moment. "I'm going," he declared resolutely. "It's the middle of the night, and the cloak will cover me and one other person." He looked around. "If any more than that want to come, they can trust to a _disillusionment_ charm. But I'm not waiting, after being this close."

Snape groaned again. "Fine," he snapped. "But Weasley and Granger are staying here, so they can explain to Professor Dumbledore, when he returns, where you and I have gone." Hermione was briefly annoyed at this determination, but chose not to fight it. They were already walking a thin line with Snape's patience for the night; not to mention that he generally didn't take too kindly to being proven wrong about something, and Harry had pretty effectively done that already.

They were gone for a long time; when the door to the office finally opened, Hermione waited with bated breath, expecting Snape and Harry; but instead, McGonagall and Dumbledore walked in- they had been meeting downstairs with Everitt, who was one of few at the school who knew the full context of Dumbledore's role at the moment.

"And where are Severus and Harry?" Dumbledore asked mildly, but McGonagall looked slightly alarmed to see they were gone.

"The Room of Requirement, sir," Hermione responded quickly. McGonagall looked confused, and Hermione elaborated. "Where we had our meetings of the D.A. when Umbridge was here."

"Whatever are they doing there?" she asked, confusion written in every one of the lines on her aged face.

She turned to Dumbledore. "Sir, the meeting with the Grey Lady went… rather well…" his eyes widened. "Harry thinks it's there."

"What- Albus?" McGonagall turned between them, trying desperately to understand what was going on in the school of which she was in charge. Dumbledore's eyes glittered, however, and he clasped his hands.

"Of course, of course," his mutterings were cut off, however, when the door opened once more. All four people turned expectantly to see Snape and Harry walk in, wide-eyed, as though hardly believing the events of the last hour.

Snape had something cradled in his grasp, wrapped in a spare piece of cloth; it seemed that he was careful not to come into direct contact with it.

"I detect no dark magic," he said quietly. "But it did not seem worth the risk." His eyes darted to Harry, who nodded. Snape placed the bundle on McGonagall's desk and unwrapped it.

It was somehow smaller than Hermione imagined. Jewel-encrusted, but tarnished, it looked like an old piece of family jewelry that hadn't been touched or polished in decades. But this- this was a millennia old, and hadn't been seen by the living since the time of the founders- save one.

"Is that…?" McGonagall looked dumb-founded.

"Yes," Dumbledore breathed. "So many headmasters have sought the location of this lost piece of history- and it should fall on me to destroy it."

"Destroy it!"

He nodded sadly and walked to one side of the room where a glass case stood- and on top of it rested the sword of Godric Gryffindor.

"Albus, I don't understand."

"I'm so sorry, Minerva, that we have left you in doubt on this matter for so long. But now, I think it is time, since the fight will soon be brought here. However, first," he summoned Harry forward. "Harry, I think it is best if you destroy this one." He handed the sword of Gryffindor over to Harry, and Hermione stared on anxiously. She longed to know more about the diadem, study it, understand the nature of its power…

"Hermione!" She started as Snape's voice cut through the silent room. Looking around, embarrassed, she realized that she'd taken an involuntary few steps towards the diadem and was slowly reaching for it. Perhaps Helena Ravenclaw had been right not to trust students such as herself, she reflected with chagrin.

"Harry," Dumbledore motioned him forward, smiling at Hermione. With a sigh, Harry lifted the heavy sword which sat familiar in his hand, and plunged it into the center of the tiara.

There was a terrible shrieking sound, metal being twisted and torn apart as the diadem writhed as though something alive, burning from the inside out. Within seconds, it was nothing but a lump of twisted silver with the remnants of a few of the jewels noticeable.

Hermione let out the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.

"And that's four," Dumbledore sighed, sinking heavily into a chair. He turned apologetically to a rather confused Minerva McGonagall. "I shall remain to explain as much as possible," he said wearily. "You four should return."

They all flooed to Grimmauld Place, even Snape and Hermione. Once there, they made sure that they could not be overheard before discussing what would happen.

"Where do we go from here?" Harry asked. "We've done what we can with what we know…"

"Now it will be up to Draco to lure the Dark Lord into revealing the location of Hufflepuff's cup," Snape sounded resigned. "To be done convincingly- that could take some time, but not much. Once that happens, the Dark Lord will be on a warpath, obviously. If he suspects the pieces of his soul are not only being targeted, but that four of them are already destroyed…he will waste little time in hunting you down."

"And with the Elder Wand, he believes that he will succeed?" Harry swallowed hard.

Snape hesitated. "As Professor Dumbledore said, his overconfidence would serve us more than him. And he will be engaged at a particular place and time, of our choosing. Not his." He looked around at their tired faces. "Come," he said, more kindly than was Snape's wont, "it is late. To bed."

* * *

Back in McGonagall's office, Dumbledore was arraying a collection of items- the diadem, an old ring with the center stone missing, a necklace, and an old, torn diary.

"Draco must be summoned- with another Slytherin who has family loyal to Voldemort. Clark must bring them up, and I must be here, though it should appear an accident that they entered when they did- most importantly though, Draco and the other student must get a clear view of these four items and the sword of Gryffindor- you understand?"

She nodded, face pale. "I understand, Albus."

* * *

**A/N: comment! 3 **

**Cheers!**


	32. Chapter 31

**Disclaimer: Still not mine. :-(**

**Chapter 31**

Professor Everitt wrapped up his seventh years' NEWT lesson on animagus theory and prepared to dismiss the class.

"And so for next week, please read pages one hundred twelve through one hundred thirty-four, and don't forget your roll of parchment on the practical process on becoming an animagi. Oh, and Mr. Malfoy?" Draco looked up from where he was packing up his books. "Could you stay a moment? I have a message about prefect duties."

"Of course, sir," Draco did his best to appear nonchalant; in truth, he was a little nervous about talking alone with the professor who, prior to school, he'd only seen as an escaping captive from his father. He had reasonable faith that things regarding his loyalties had been explained to Professor Everitt, however.

Everitt watched the last students trickle out of the class. "Professor McGonagall wants to meet with the prefects of each house individually," he told him. A couple of Hufflepuffs were the last to leave, still chatting as they finished packing their bags. "She's asked that you and Miss Parkinson meet me outside her office tonight at seven; she's already spoken with the fifth and sixth year prefects, from what I understand."

"Yes, sir. I'll be sure to pass that message along to Pansy…" the last two students cleared the room, and Everitt dropped pretenses, waved his wand to shut and lock the door, and cast a silencing charm on the room.

"The time is approaching when Professor Dumbledore and Harry Potter will lure Voldemort to the school. They need your help."

Draco's eyes widened slightly. "Are they truly ready to face him?"

"I do not understand the full context of the story; merely that they were seeking something in the school, something which they had to find before they could engage him. The two of them, Snape, Hermione Granger, and the younger Weasley boy were all here a couple of times in the past week, and it seems that they had succeeded."

Draco nodded tersely. "What do I need to do?" he asked.

"Ah, well that is very simple," he explained. "Meet me in front of the headmistress's office at seven, as I said. Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore are staging a scene of sorts, something that you and Miss Parkinson will stumble in on, and were not supposed to witness. It then will fall on you to relay that scene by whatever means to Voldemort; through your parents or aunt, if needs be. Miss Parkinson will, of course, be an alternative witness, to verify your claims, if need be. In particular, you should be watching for specific items which will be displayed and then hurriedly concealed; these are what will be of particular interest to Voldemort, and will drive him to act soon."

With a swallow and a nod, Draco prepared to leave but stopped short. "They're luring him to Hogwarts?" he frowned. Everitt nodded wearily.

"Myself, Professor McGonagall, and Hagrid have been taking extensive amounts of time to develop a suitable evacuation plan for the castle. It has been quite the work in progress."

"I'm sure," Draco murmured. "How should I go about getting in contact with my family or the Dark Lord?" he asked. "I assume this is something too delicate for owl-post?"

"Oh, I'm sure you will be able to find an acceptable excuse for your head of house," Everitt winked. "Death in the family? Birth? Marriage?"

"Right." Draco left the office, pondering his recently departed meeting with much interest.

* * *

SCENESCENE scenescenescene SCENESCENE

The next weekend, Hermione and Snape found themselves summoned to Grimmauld place around lunchtime. Not sure what to expect, but suspecting it hard something to do with Draco Malfoy's task, she was surprised to see Clark Everitt sitting at the table in the kitchen with Harry, Ron, and Dumbledore.

"Ah, Hermione!" he stood to greet her, shaking her hand warmly. The warmth faded a little when he turned to Snape, but he nonetheless held out his hand cordially. Hermione held her breath and sighed quietly with relief when Snape accepted. They stiffly shook hands, and Hermione wondered if she was the only one in the room who noticed the tension between the two men. After all, the last time they had met, Snape had more or less threatened the younger man. About _her_.

"Is the rest of the elite group then?" Everitt asked wryly, resuming his seat at the table. Hermione took the empty seat to his left, Snape sitting to hers.

Dumbledore smiled serenely. "This is all we're waiting on, yes," he told him. "You may proceed."

Everitt took a deep breath. "Well, I've been in contact with young master Malfoy a few times. The first was to arrange the encounter with Miss Parkinson, Minerva, and Albus here," he nodded his head towards him. "I then spoke with him the next day to verify that he properly saw what was essential. From what I was told, the ruse acted out as planned."

"Then he has spread the information to the right sources?" Snape's voice was tense, and Hermione wondered if he found it difficult, relinquishing a job that should have been his own to a young boy of only seventeen.

Everitt nodded. "He has gone today to meet with his parents. He told Horace that his mother was ill- nothing fatal, but he wished to check up on her well-being."

"Thank you," Dumbledore said quietly. "Harry," he turned to face him, "you know what this means, right? It is time for you to be aware of any twinge, any sign of connection with Voldemort's mind- and then you must tap into it, focus on it, discern any sources of stress, confusion, anger…"

Harry paled slightly, but nodded resolutely. Across the table, Everitt looked mildly curious, but seemed to be restraining himself. Clearly, he didn't know much of their plans beyond what was necessary to tell Draco.

The meeting broke up shortly thereafter. Hermione returned to Prince Manor with Snape and they ate lunch together. Partly through the meal, she thought of something, and looked at him.

"Did you ever think," she said, "that perhaps Harry was never meant to learn occlumency?"

Snape scowled, not being particularly fond of the memories of attempting to teach it to him. "How do you mean?"

"Well, if he'd mastered it, he'd have very little hope of recognizing what he needs to be able to see soon," she pondered. "Maybe the higher powers that be knew he'd need that connection one day."

"The 'higher powers that be'?" Snape smirked.

"Where do seers and prophecies come from?" she asked. "Clearly there's something going on here that we mere mortals don't comprehend."

* * *

Scenescene SCENESCENESCENE scenescenescenescene

"Draco! Is everything alright? When we got your owl, we feared that…"

He held up a hand to cease his mother's worrisome tirade. "Everything is just fine. I have something I need to discuss with you and father, however."

"Of course, of course…"

The three sat down to a private lunch, and Draco told the story of going to the headmistress's office, her and Dumbledore being caught off guard.

"She got very flustered," Draco related. "Professor Everitt apologized, said he didn't realize she had a prior engagement. But Dumbledore just reached over and swept some things off of the desk, very hurriedly, and then, calm as you please, took the sword of Godric Gryffindor and replaced it on its mantle."

"What was on the desk?" Lucius frowned.

Draco shrugged. "Some odd stuff, really. A broken ring that seemed to be missing the center stone; an old, disgusting book, looked like it was covered in dirt and ink; and a necklace and a tiara."

Lucius froze at the mention of the book. He'd seen just such a book, in the very same office, more than four years ago now… it had belonged to him, before he'd foolishly given it to the Weasley girl, and the Dark Lord- well, he'd been most displeased to learn that it was gone and destroyed.

"Anyway," Draco continued, "it wasn't so much the stuff- well, except the sword maybe- as Dumbledore's presence that struck me strange. I mean, he's not allowed in the school anymore, is he?"

"Hm…" Lucius didn't really answer, just sat deep in thought. Things were piling up, one on top of another, and he struggled to make sense of it. He shared a quick glance with Narcissa, but she looked as bewildered as he felt. And what about what Bella had said? _If suspicion falls on the verity of Severus's death, it falls on Draco_. But Draco was trying to help their side now; why else pass on information about Dumbledore's movements? Yet, something nagged at the back of his mind. Something he couldn't quite place.

Once Draco was returned to school, Narcissa turned to her husband. "You didn't ask him about Severus." It was not an accusation; merely a statement of fact.

"No," he murmured. "Do me a favor, love," he took her hand in earnest. "Do not pass on the content of this meeting to your sister. Not yet."

"You do not mean to tell the Dark Lord?"

He shook his head as though trying to clear it. "I don't know," he sighed. "I just don't know."

* * *

Scenescenescne SCENESCENESCENE scenescenescene

Hermione woke with a start.

Something was- wrong? She wasn't sure. She was sure that something was at least different, out of place somehow. Had Harry finally seen into Voldemort's mind? It had been over a week, and she could see the frustration and tension among Snape and Dumbledore when they pondered just what Lucius Malfoy was waiting for.

She decided fairly quickly that falling back asleep was a futile attempt. She checked the time; 1:33 a.m. Sliding quietly out of bed, she decided to sneak into Snape's room; she doubted he'd mind.

He wasn't there though. Frowning, she journeyed to the library, and then down to the lab. Nothing. Had something happened to him? Is that what she was sensing?

Mildly alarmed, she called Harmony, feeling bad when the elf appeared, tired and rubbing her sleepy eyes.

"Is he here?" she asked the tired elf.

"Master?" Harmony asked. "He left half an hour or so ago, Hermione. He is telling me to let you know that he'll be back soon…"

Hermione wasn't listening. Why would he leave in the middle of the night unless Harry had seen something? More importantly, why wouldn't he wake her for it? Frustrated and annoyed, she hurriedly thanked Harmony, donned a light cloak over her nightgown, and apparated to Grimmauld Place.

The house was dark and quiet, but that was to be expected. She silently made her way through the corridors to the kitchen door, which was ajar just a crack. She could hear voices- and they didn't sound pleased.

"Mr. Potter, if you could accept for just one moment that the world does not revolve around you…"

"She's my friend!" she heard Harry's harsh tones overcome Snape's silky reprimand. Approaching, she could see Dumbledore standing silently by, glasses in one hand, other hand pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"And as such, you should respect her wish for silence on the matter!" Snape snapped right back.

Hermione pushed the door open and everyone froze. She was surprised to note that Ron was not present. The three who were though, had a certain deer-in-the-headlights expression on their faces that would have been funny had she not been so annoyed already.

"What's happened?" she demanded. "Harry?" she prompted, when no one spoke. "Is it Voldemort?"

"I- Hermione," he faltered, looking torn. She sighed and looked around, noting the pensieve on the table.

"I assume_ something_'s happened," she insisted, "else you wouldn't all be here with a pensieve out." She looked at Snape, saw his eyes dart quickly towards the pensieve before returning to her face. He looked remarkably speechless, something she felt she'd be hard pressed to ever see again. "Very well then," she turned and reached for the pensieve. Snape reached for her arm but she shrugged him away, looking to Professor Dumbledore for permission. He looked sadly resigned, but motioned she could proceed.

"Albus!" Snape hissed. But it was too late- Hermione's head had disappeared into the swirling mists of a memory…

_She was standing outdoors in a large clearing. In front of her were two dozen or so figures in dark robes and masks. _Death Eaters_, she realized. _

"_Lucius," a high cold voice rang out. "Come forth." _

_A tall masked man approached her. With a start, she realized that she was the one with the high voice. She was Voldemort. _

She wondered if this was always how Harry experienced dreams of Voldemort.

"_I heard an interesting story today from Bella," her voice hissed. "Loyal Bella," he crooned, sparing her a sideways glance. She knelt in acknowledgement. "Something she said you tried to hide from her."_

"_My lord?" Lucius seemed afraid- like he knew what she'd said? _

"_She says that your son came home to visit unexpectedly. That he shared some information with you and your wife about the fool Dumbledore. Is this true?" _

"_I- yes, my lord, but..."_

"_SILENCE! _Crucio!"_ The man fell writhing to the floor, and Hermione cringed. "You will reveal to me the full content of that conversation. _Legilimens!_" _

_She was in Malfoy's mind- she could see what Draco said, how he and Narcissa reacted. When it was over, Lucius stood, hunched over, gasping. _

"_Why would you keep that from me, Luciusss?" _

"_My lord, it hardly seemed relevant…" _

"_You lie!"_

"_I am not, my lord…"_

"_What else are you keeping from me, Lucius? What other secrets does Malfoy Manor hold? Reveal them! Now!" _

_He seemed to fight it, but he was no match for the Dark Lord entering his mind. _

_Hermione saw a figure being led down a darkened hallway, turned and thrust into an abandoned room… the figure turned- and it was her. _

And she realized why Harry was wide-eyed and hesitant- why Snape had wanted her to keep clear of the pensieve- Dumbledore's sad resignation.

_She watched in full, excruciating detail each time Malfoy drew the knife across her pale skin. Except she _was_ Malfoy, she was looking into his memory now… she was torturing herself, and she fought the revulsion at this sick thought. _

She knew she should leave, knew she would regret staying- but a morbid fear and curiosity kept her going- she needed to see the resolution of Voldemort's discussion with Malfoy, and she'd have to stay through this to know.

_When he pressed her up against the wall, hand around her throat, whispering in her ear, she cringed, remembering the pain and humiliation of the next minutes- she didn't even know how many, it had seemed an eternity at the time. _

_She closed her eyes and fought to block out the sound of her own muffled cries- she had done her best to ensure Malfoy derived as little satisfaction from the brutal act as possible- _

_When she at last exited Malfoy's mind, she was pale and shaking, but she was also still Voldemort. And she was in a fury. Lucius had concealed this huge failure from him as well. But his horcruxes…_

_Locket, diary, ring, tiara- how had they found them all? What of the others? Nagini, the cup- well, Nagini would remain safe, that much was sure- and Bella had the keeping of the cup, surely she had kept it safe… _

_Curses flew, bodies dropped, screams rent the air, and the memory dissolved. _

Hermione reappeared beside the pensieve, her expression glassy and distant, unseeing. Dumbledore peered at her concernedly; Harry reached a tentative hand towards her, but Snape held up a hand, signaling him to wait.

"Hermione?" Harry called her name quietly, voice laced with grief. She turned towards the sound of his voice, registering the presence of the three others in the room finally.

"I don't- what--" she struggled to say something, body beginning to shake slightly, tears forming in her eyes. Again, Harry made to touch her shoulder, and this time Snape did not stop him. Hermione did, however,

"Don't touch me!" she shrieked shrilly. "I just-" she looked lost and confused, and the shaking was worse. "It's only…"

She wasn't exactly sure when it happened, but she found herself pulled into a tight embrace. Slender hands brushed loose hair away from her face, and she was lowered to the floor, sitting and quaking and crying in Snape's lap.

"Get me a cool cloth," he barked at Harry, who wrenched his eyes away from the scene unfolding before him- a scene which was slowly becoming stranger and stranger.

Wordlessly, he handed the cloth over, and it was pressed against Hermione's forehead and face, bringing her slowly back to reality.

Dumbledore pressed a vial into Snape's hand. "Dreamless sleep," he murmured. Snape uncorked it and held it before her.

"I don't want…" she protested weakly, but he didn't pay her any heed. She found herself swallowing the sweet liquid anyway. The last thing she felt before drifting into blissful, unaware unconsciousness, were Snape's cool lips pressed lightly to her forehead.

* * *

**A/N: :-/ oh dear, Hermione. **

**Finals week! Ah! But happily, this means that in 5 days, I'll be home with nothing to do for a month. Woohoo! **

**Give me your thoughts! Until next time,**

**Cheers!**


	33. Chapter 32

**Disclaimer: Still doesn't belong to me. **

**Chapter 32**

"There is a question we are not considering, Severus."

"Hm?"

"Why would Lucius Malfoy not reveal Draco's visit to the Dark Lord, much less his sister-in-law?"

Snape was silent for a long time, thinking. "It is hard to tell," he murmured softly. "Lucius's interests are much more important to him than the creed of the Dark Lord. That much was evident when the first war ended. That is why Lucius did not go to Azkaban for his crimes, and the deranged ones, such as Bella, did. When Voldemort is alive and strong, he is a source of power for Lucius. When he is gone…"

"Perhaps Lucius then believes Voldemort's power to be waning?"

"No," he muttered, "there's more to it; much more. He senses a threat, but what that could be…"

"It's Draco."

Snape and Dumbledore turned in surprise to the prone figure in the bed. They had not realized Hermione had woken.

"What do you mean, Miss Granger?" Dumbledore smiled kindly down on her.

"Draco was worried that his family would begin to question his actions the night of the ritual last spring," she mused. "But the only one cruel enough to bring it up to Voldemort is Bellatrix Lestrange, and she's too arrogant to believe that you're alive," she gestured towards Snape. "Lucius and Narcissa on the other hand have more reason to doubt Draco, because they do not operate under the fallacy of believing Voldemort to be infallible. They think you could be alive, which means Draco could be working for our side. Which means the information he fed them could be a trap and if it is, they will fear for Draco's life."

"That's putting a lot of faith in the humanity of Lucius Malfoy," Snape raised a skeptical brow. "To risk the downfall of the Dark Lord because of the possibility that it will implicate his son…"

"_He_ doesn't know that it could mean the downfall of Voldemort," Hermione reasoned.

"But he saw the wrath of the Dark Lord when he learned the fate of his diary. And based upon Lucius's memory of the interaction with Draco, I'd say that he put two and two together."

"So you think he's simply covering for himself?" Hermione frowned. "If Voldemort falls, surely Lucius realizes he will not escape Azkaban a second time."

Dumbledore held up a hand. "Whatever the reason," he interjected, "the delay has not proved detrimental- Voldemort is angered and he intends to investigate his horcruxes. Yes," he answered Hermione's unspoken question, "Harry has had a rough night- his scar has been hurting terribly since the first instance, and Voldemort continues to fly into new rages…" he shook his head sadly. "What is important though is that we know where the cup may be found, which means we can ambush Voldemort when he reaches Hogwarts."

"Where is it?"

"The Black family vault in Gringotts."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "We have to find and _steal_ something from the Black vault? Surely that will be nigh on impossible."

"_You_ do not have to do anything," Snape looked at her sternly. "And it would be nigh on impossible but for one thing."

"Which is?"

"Narcissa Malfoy is a Black. And has shown herself to be quite concerned for her family above the Dark Lord's cause."

"So what's the plan?" Hermione sat up, feeling very well refreshed and rested after her night under the influence of Dreamless Sleep.

Dumbledore looked somber. "The Order is prepping and Kingsley and Tonks are drawing on as many of the aurors as can be trusted," he told her. "The evacuation of Hogwarts is underway, even as we speak."

A lump seemed to form in Hermione's chest. This was really happening… did that mean that the next day or two would determine whether Harry would live or die? What did it mean for the rest of her friends in the Order? Would there be a full-fledged battle?

Dumbledore's voice broke Hermione out of her frantic thoughts. "I'm afraid I must take my leave," he told them. "I need to check in with the school and with Harry. At last check, it seemed that Voldemort planned to journey to Hogwarts last, as it will put up the most fight, which is a remarkable break of good fortune for us- but we need all the time we can get to prepare the castle and the grounds."

With a smile at Hermione and a nod to Snape, he left, and Hermione thought he looked very tense indeed. Perhaps he too feared the fate of Harry.

"Are you well?"

She turned in surprise to Snape.

"Just fine," she said shortly. "Though you're developing a remarkable propensity towards drugging me against my will."

"You hardly seem worse for wear," he looked affronted at her critique of his behavior.

"That's not the point," she said gently. "The point is that you can't just knock me out every time something difficult comes up, or I do something stupid- I have to face the consequences. Last night I was so adamant that I know exactly what was happening and offended that I wasn't included, that I ignored every hint and sign that there was more to it than I understood. But I appreciate the effort to take care of me," she added quickly. "That was…" she shuddered, "difficult to see."

"Not as difficult as it was for Potter to see me holding you afterwards," he had a half smirk on his face.

"Yes, well," she muttered, "Harry has much more on his mind to be getting on with."

"Nevertheless, we had a little chat whilst you slept- between his prophetic spells, at any rate."

Hermione's eyebrows rose remarkably. "Oh? And what exactly was said?"

Snape studied her carefully for a minute. "You may view the memory, if you wish," he offered. She looked around for a pensieve. "No," he corrected, "you must use legilimency. It is high time you learned, in any case."

"Is this truly the time?" she asked skeptically.

"I will facilitate the process for you. Here," he looked carefully into her eyes, "I have brought the proper memory to the front of my mind- the rest is shielded with Occlumency. You know the incantation…"

"_Legilimens_," she murmured, staring into his eyes.

"_She's alright, then?" Harry's voice came floating from the other side of the library. Snape turned, startled. "It's dark and quiet up here," Harry explained, pointing to his head. "It helps." _

"_She'll be just fine physically," came Snape's well-measured reply. _

"_And otherwise?" _

"_She's handled it quite well since the incident," he replied testily. "No reason to suspect a total breakdown due to the memory- albeit harsh and abrupt. No, she's strong." _

"_Why the Dreamless Sleep potion then?" Harry seemed genuinely confused. _

"_It was faster on hand than a calming draught," Snape shrugged. "And it was late and, harsh as it may seem, other matters were more pressing at that exact moment in time. It was essential to direct all focus to the Dark Lord's plans, and to contacting the Order and Hogwarts." He gave a half-smile that seemed to surprise Harry. "Though I suspect I'll have hell to pay when she wakes." _

_Harry looked at him ponderously, weighing his words carefully. "I've been avidly denying the voice in my head suggesting that there was more between the two of you than mentor and pupil," his voice was sharp. Snape turned to him, expression unreadable. "You care for her." His voice was softer now, and it was not a question. _

"_Yes." _

"_Does she for you?" _

_There was a few seconds hesitation. "Yes- or else she is a greater occlumens than even I could fathom." _

"_You're too old for her." Harry's voice was mild. _

"_I would imagine, Mr. Potter," Snape's voice took on a dangerous quality, "that Hermione would appreciate leaving such judgments to herself." _

_Harry flushed. "Of course. My apologies." _

"_It is good that you watch out for your friend. Just be sure not to attempt to control her." His mouth twitched wryly. "It does not work out so well." _

"_I'll bet," Harry muttered. "Which is why this is going to stay well clear of Ron, at least until things are settled with Voldemort. I imagine any of the Weasleys would flip a lid." _

_Snape sat back in his chair and looked closely at Harry. "The twins are already aware- to what extent, I am not sure- that there is some manner of personal relationship between the two of us. It was discovered accidentally, and they promised Hermione to stay silent on the matter." Harry grimaced at the phrase 'personal relationship,' but nodded. _

"_Then I will say nothing more on the subject," he promised. "But to ask a question which I suspect Fred and George asked Hermione- was there any manner of… questionable conduct while she was still your student?" _

_Snape's eyes flashed, but he held his temper in check. "Of course not, Potter. What do you take me for?"_

_Harry held up a hand defensively. "I needed to be sure, that is all." _

The memory ended abruptly and Hermione found herself pushed out of Snape's mind.

"Well that went surprisingly well," she speculated. "Harry truly has grown and matured remarkably in the past couple of years, and especially since we escaped captivity in the spring." She grinned. "Ron, on the other hand- well, we'll cross that hurdle when we come to it, I suppose."

"Hm…"

"You don't truly believe I could be lying about my feelings towards you, do you?" Hermione frowned, remembering that part of the conversation. Snape smirked.

"I thought it might ease things for Potter a bit, if I allowed for the possibility that it was all just a falsehood." Hermione looked at him skeptically. "But like you said," he allowed, "he does and should have much more important things on his mind."

Hermione was silent and brooding for some time as she got up and moved about the room and disappearing into the bathroom to wash up and get dressed. She emerged with an unreadable expression on her face.

"What if you'd all had to go to Hogwarts while I slept?" she asked quietly. "What if Voldemort had decided to be more proactive, attacked the school first thing?"

"Honestly," Snape spoke with effort, "I'd have been relieved that you were removed for however long from the danger that will most assuredly accompany his arrival at the school."

Hermione sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. The anger was visibly brewing beneath the surface. She said nothing though, and made to leave the bedroom. He stood quickly and reached out for her arm.

"Hermione…"

"Don't." She half turned, but would not meet his eyes. "You know what this means to me- to stand by Harry's side until Voldemort's dead, or one of us is. Perhaps," she said quietly, "you ought to have considered that last night as well. I'd never have forgiven myself had something happened while I _slept_."

And she was gone. Snape knew he could follow… where could she go, besides back to Grimmauld Place? But it seemed much more prudent to accept the distance right now. She was angry- and rightfully so, he supposed.

It was only a few minutes, however, before Dumbledore was back.

"The school?"

"The students are gone- several of those who are of-age volunteered to stay, and Minerva and I could find little ground on which to deny them." He paused and looked torn. "Severus," he implored. "I told you that I would have more to ask of you, when the time came."

Dark eyes, nearly black, met icy blue ones.

"It is time."

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the delay, as always. The end of my semester was semi-hectic- and then I got snowed in on campus in Northern Virginia in the big mid-Atlantic blizzard last weekend… was flying home, so had to delay my flight a couple days, and then with holiday stuffs… anyway, point is, here I am, and the story is almost done. A fact about which I am kind of sad. :-( Perhaps that is why I keep procrastinating the writing. ;-) **


	34. Chapter 33

**Disclaimer: I still don't own it- well, except perhaps particular plot points, but even those are often derived from the book with guilty satisfaction… ;-P **

**Chapter 33**

"Harry!" He'd gone rigid and silent, eyes staring blankly into space before collapsing to his knees with a painful groan, hands clamped firmly over his scar. Hermione looked about wildly, but no one else was around.

The spell was short-lived though, and Harry soon sat panting on the floor. "We have to move," he muttered, "and soon."

"He's heading to the school?" her voice was unnaturally shrill, even to her own ears.

"Very soon. He's just been to the cave where the necklace should've been, he's livid. He means to storm the castle, students be damned." He was very pale and Hermione placed a hand on his shoulder to reassure him.

"The students are gone, remember? They've been working to protect them and the school itself all night."

Harry nodded weakly and Hermione could truly read the distress on his face as he raised his wand, concentrated, and released a patronus. "A message to Dumbledore," he told her. "He is to gather everyone once and for all when the time is right."

The door opened seconds later and Ron walked in bearing a plate overflowing with food.

"Blimey, Hermione, I didn't know you were here," he exclaimed, setting the plate down in front of Harry. "Look," he said grimly, "mum demands that you eat something, else she'll have my…" he stopped, noticing the grim looks on their faces. "What is it?"

"He's discovered that the necklace is destroyed- as well as the ring," Harry filled him in quickly. "He still has to find Bellatrix Lestrange and investigate the goblet, but then he means to go to Hogwarts. It's almost time."

"Blimey," Ron repeated faintly. He was spared further comment, however, by the arrival of Dumbledore's phoenix patronus.

"_All parties not currently at Hogwarts are to proceed immediately to Grimmauld Place."_

Hermione smiled sadly and stood, pulling Harry up with her. "We'd better go down," she gestured to the doorway, and the trio walked down together. She grabbed each of their hands in turn and squeezed them once comfortingly before they entered the sitting room, which already had several members of the Order in it. After another five minutes, Dumbledore came sweeping into the room with Snape trailing behind, black cloak billowing out behind him.

His dark eyes sought out Hermione's, but she avoided them carefully.

"We can wait no longer," Dumbledore determined, looking around the room. "I know we lack some of our number, but the timing is too crucial." He paused for a few seconds, choosing his words. "Friends, this is it."

There was a collective murmur around the room. They were in varying stages of awareness of the events of the past ten hours, but most had ascertained that _something_ of importance was to occur today.

"We've worked together for some two and a half years now," Dumbledore continued. "Everyone here has sacrificed something for our cause; a friendship, a family tie, perhaps. A job or an advance at work; some, their very lives to serve the Order and the higher belief that good can and will triumph over evil. And some of you have been here before," here, his eyes swept over Remus, Snape, Moody, Diggle, and some others Hermione did not know well. "Others are new to the fight this time," he glanced at Arthur and Molly Weasley. "And others were just children or infants when Voldemort last seized power and nearly destroyed this world."

He looked intently at Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, and George.

"Perhaps it seems strange then that so much would fall on this generation," he murmured. "Those who knew little or none of Voldemort before his defeat sixteen years ago- almost to the day," he added somberly. Hermione started. It was, indeed, the thirtieth of October.

"You are all able witches and wizards, and I trust each and every one of you implicitly. I also respect each and every one of you and will continue to do so whatever you herein choose to do."

"What do you mean, Albus?" Remus frowned.

"I will not order anyone to fight today," Dumbledore told him quietly. "That would be a very Voldemort-like thing to do. No, it is important to recognize the power of an individual's freedom of choice and his or her ability to exercise it. It is what sets us apart- we are bound by more than the promise of power, and the fear of a leader who could not care which of us dies- rather, we are tied by a mutual respect and love. These are what will triumph today, and hopefully with as little loss of life as possible.

"Some of you have small children- others may feel that their strengths lie elsewhere than in direct battle. Remember that, if this is the case, Madam Pomfrey will be seeking aid in the hospital wing, and others would be useful helping to coordinate to keep people sustained and watered. Like I said though, I will force no one to accompany me to Hogwarts."

He took a deep breath. "We must depart immediately. Voldemort has recognized the ploy which Harry and I have carefully constructed, and will soon be attempting to breach the school grounds. The under-age children have been evacuated, and the remaining staff are doing their parts to begin reinforcing the school's already inlaid protections. Trusted aurors are being summoned- indeed, after the defeat of Voldemort, the next task will be to oust the corrupted members of the Ministry." He paused. "The goal will be to keep Voldemort's forces at bay for as long as possible, and I fear that will be the difficult part. Before we can hope to defeat him finally, we must wait for a very particular time and circumstance- that will be left up to myself, Harry, and Severus however.

"You will apparate as close to the barrier of the wards as possible," he continued. "The floos in and out of Hogwarts have been sealed. Once we get everyone in the gate, it will be sealed against entry- though Severus suspects Voldemort will attempt to penetrate the grounds by way of the Forbidden Forest, rather than Hogsmeade. Lastly, everyone should carry an extra vial of the potion to protect against the killing curse- there are several in the kitchen, and a further supply has been sent to Poppy at Hogwarts, for those who are already there. Do not waste it until you sense impending danger, however.

"The gate will be closed in half an hour."

There were several seconds' silence as all of this information was digested before everyone began moving and talking at once. Hermione stood awkwardly in a corner of the room next to Harry and Ron, unsure exactly what to be doing at the moment. Within moments, however, a teary-eyed Molly Weasley came and seized Ron, dragging him off to a family gathering in the kitchen.

Hermione and Harry stood looking uncomfortably at one another, feeling rather out of place… but soon enough, Dumbledore showed up looking apologetic.

"I'm sorry, my dears, but Harry, I have one last thing which we must sit down and discuss. First, however, I need you to find your invisibility cloak. That should stay on your person from here on."

"Oh- yes, sir," he shrugged but dashed upstairs to retrieve it from his trunk.

Hermione stood to leave. "You may stay if you like," Dumbledore offered. She smiled and shook her head.

"I should find Professor Snape," she said quietly.

"Ah, indeed," his eyes twinkled maddeningly, and Hermione flushed. "He has returned to his home, but plans to apparate shortly." She nodded and left hurriedly, passing Harry in the hallway on his way back.

"I'll see you at the school," she murmured, kissing him quickly on the cheek.

When she arrived at Prince Manor, she was unsure where to look. Thinking quickly, however, she deduced that he would likely be finishing bottling the 'Grape' potion, and headed down to the lab. She was not disappointed.

"I thought you'd be faithfully by Potter's side by now."

Hermione frowned but refused to be baited.

"He's speaking with Professor Dumbledore. Everyone else- well, they seem to be spending time with people who matter most to them."

His face twitched, and she thought he seemed to be fighting a sneer. "Is that so? Perhaps you should do so as well."

"I am."

She didn't really know when it happened or who even started it. But somehow, she was suddenly pressed against him, hands around his neck, and they were kissing rather frantically and fervently. His hands were in her hair and her breath hitched in her throat when he deepened the kiss, backing her up against a work table in the process—

The sound of shattering glass brought them back to reality with forceful sharpness. He swore and waved his wand impatiently, and the small glass vial which had toppled when he had pushed Hermione back into the table repaired itself instantaneously. She blushed deeply and looked away while Snape regained his composure.

"We should go," he finally said quietly. She nodded and took his proffered arm and together they apparated outside the wards of Hogwarts. Kingsley Shacklebolt was at the gate of the school with some aurors who Hermione did not recognize. He held up a hand, indicating they should pause at the entrance. Two of the aurors had their wands fixed on her and Snape.

"Where and when did Hermione Granger and I first meet?"

"At- at headquarters," she said, "in the summer of 1995."

"And who did Severus Snape introduce himself as, the first time we met?"

Hermione saw Snape start slightly, but he answered smoothly. "Septimus Prince."

Kingsley nodded and they were permitted to pass through the gate. He met them with a strained smile. "Severus, I'm glad you're here… we could use your help strategically."

He directed them to the Great Hall, where anyone who had already arrived was waiting for further instruction. Volunteers to help Madam Pomfrey were being directed to the hospital wing by Tonks, who stood at the head table. Mad-Eye Moody was by her side, magical eye swerving all around the hall, taking stock of who was there and what they were doing. Hermione also saw Flitwick, Sprout, and Everitt as the moved here and there, talking with various newcomers or directing people elsewhere.

"Oi…Hermione!"

She turned in surprise to see a group of seventh-year students hurrying towards her. Neville, Seamus, and Ernie MacMillan were in the lead, and a few other students- all of whom Hermione recognized from Dumbledore's Army- trailed behind. Neville reached out to shake her hand, shrugged, and captured her in a bruising hug.

"Oh, it's great to see you again," Seamus exclaimed, "when I heard what was happening with the muggle-borns- Dean wrote me, you see- I was devastated. Figured you would be about as angry as they come, but Dean said you weren't going overseas with the rest of them…?"

"No," she agreed, "I've had business here, as I'm sure you can imagine…" she trailed off, watching Neville go pale as he looked over her shoulder. She turned in confusion and then realized… Snape was there, conferring in low tones with Moody.

"Blimey," he said weakly. "McGonagall warned us all that he wasn't really dead all this time, but just barely two hours ago. Still a bit of a shock to get over."

Snape glanced around and saw the group looking at him. He caught Hermione's eye and held up a finger, signaling she should stay where she was. He finished his conversation with Moody and strode quickly to the small group. Neville took an involuntary half-step backwards, but Snape ignored them all and leaned down close to Hermione.

"Here," he placed a small satchel in her hands, "extra doses of the potion- you should distribute them as you see fit to your former classmates who have not had prior access." She nodded. "Also… Albus is not here yet, nor Potter, and the instructions are to close the gate within the next two minutes… have you any idea…?"

"No, sir," she frowned, looking about the hall. The Weasley family had just marched in en masse, but no Harry. Her perusal of the hall was interrupted soon thereafter, however, but a seemingly spontaneous eruption of fire in the center. People backed away quickly, but the fire dispersed on its own, revealing Dumbledore radiating power and confidence, Harry looking mildly bewildered, and Fawkes the phoenix, perched lazily on Dumbledore's shoulder.

"Blimey."

Harry grinned. "Well put, Seamus."

There was a commotion at the entrance of the Great Hall. Listening closely, Hermione could discern the stern voice of Minerva McGonagall, becoming louder and louder. She headed towards the door in alarm and then stopped short, seeing McGonagall leading a sullen Ginny and spacey Luna behind her.

"Ginny!" That was Mrs. Weasley. "What-?"

"It seems," McGonagall broke in crisply, "that Ms. Weasley and Ms. Lovegood saw fit to give us all the slip- they attempted to re-enter the grounds barely before Kingsley locked and warded the gate!"

"My entire family is here!" Ginny retorted sharply. "I have a right to be as well!"

"You're underage!" Mr. Weasley was paler than usual. "Ginny, dear, I'm afraid I simply cannot allow you to stay…"

"She will have to now, Arthur," Dumbledore told him gently. "They both will. All forms of transportation away from the school have been sealed.* Even if they could leave, it is too late to send them to the rest of the students. Might I make a suggestion, however? Ms. Weasley and Ms. Lovegood should be perfectly safe helping Madam Pomfrey…"

Ginny looked mutinous, but Mrs. Weasley was remarkably relieved. She grasped Ginny's arm firmly and essentially dragged her from the hall. "Come along, Luna," she called sternly as they departed.

Hermione took the opportunity of the distraction to pass out two vials each from her bag to the students with her.

"What's this?" Ernie asked, eyeing it dubiously.

"A potion that protects you from the killing curse," she told them quickly. "I don't have time to explain much, but it works- I've seen it, it saved Ron's life… and Professor Snape's. There are unbreakable charms on the vials, so keep them with you and don't drink until there's actually a threat. If six hours go by and we're still here, drink the second one."

They looked at her in astonishment, but pocketed the vials.

Ron and Harry came over to join their small reunion, and they shook hands fervently with those present.

"Potter, mate," Seamus said, "you guys _have_ been busy, haven't you?" Harry grinned and opened his mouth to reply, but grasped his head instead, falling to his knees as Hermione had seen him do earlier that same day. "Potter?"

"Albus!" Snape called for him sharply as he kneeled by Harry's side. "What is it, Potter? Are they on their way?"

"No," Harry gasped, fighting the pain. "He's learnt of the evacuation, knows that we're preparing to face him. He's starting to understand the larger picture, recognize the whole trap, but he's still struggling to understand how…"

"Will he still come?" Dumbledore was by their side now- Neville and Seamus backed away to let him through. "Harry- is Voldemort going to come to Hogwarts?"

"I don't- ah!" Harry's eyes clenched shut as a new wave of pain radiated through his scar. But then it stopped, almost as suddenly as it had come on.

"Yes, he's coming. He believes that the Elder Wand will tip the balance back in his favor, even if he has lost the element of surprise- so have we, after all. And…" he paused. "He suspects Draco's duplicity. It was Crabbe and Goyle who went to him, they said they gave their head of house the slip as well… they also said that Draco did not evacuate with them. He chose to remain in the school."

"So I did." Hermione looked up to see Draco standing several feet in front of her. "Professor Dumbledore told me to stay downstairs until they sealed the grounds." Hermione smiled and rushed forward to give him a hug, which he accepted, albeit stiffly.

"It is time," Snape interrupted. "The Dark Lord knows we are here waiting for him, but we still have the upper hand. He is incensed, which will make him even more dangerous and erratic. He will be, however, less prepared than we are." He stopped to think. "The likelihood that he will establish his camp in the Forbidden Forest is now very high. He knows the route from Hogsmeade will have been blocked by now, and it is much more difficult to reinforce against an entire forest line. The school wards will do their part, but they are not infallible. It is likely that such creatures as dementors, trolls, even giants will be used to gain whatever advantage possible, and we need defenses which can withstand that.

"Aurors should maintain concealed positions with good visibility of the forest. Shacklebolt will coordinate specifics on the ground. Additional members of the Order of the Phoenix should patrol the whole of the school grounds, paying special attention to areas of entry or particular weakness- specifically the gate and path to Hogsmeade and the Whomping Willow. Be aware of where aid is needed.

"Teachers, work to your strengths. Help where you feel you can be most effective. Students, you will have the primary task of defense of the castle itself. Stay within its walls as much as possible, reinforce damaged walls or windows, find points of strategic significance from which you may fire spells or patronuses down on the grounds.

"For my part, I will be coordinating all groups from inside this hall. It is essential that the Dark Lord not see me alive and acting on the part of the Order- not yet."

Hermione shot him a sharp look; his eyes met hers briefly before he continued.

"The Dark Lord's pride and underestimate of our strengths will be his weaknesses. Our first, primary task for this confrontation is to capture Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy- alive- and it is my belief that he will send them to us first. News of Draco's disloyalty has infuriated him, and Lucius and Narcissa have fallen from his good graces. He will use them to try to obtain Draco. It is then that we must take them." Draco looked down at this assessment, but seemed to agree reluctantly; on some level, Hermione suspected, he felt bad for using his parents like this.

The crowd broke up and people went to assume their positions for the oncoming conflict. There was a palpable sense of anticipation, fear, and excitement in the air, but Hermione tried to shut out these feelings.

Snape approached the cluster of students. "I need a word with Potter, Weasley, Granger, and Malfoy." The rest scattered rather willingly. "Here's what will happen," he said quickly and quietly. "You four will remain in the castle with the rest of the students until you receive word from myself or Albus that the Malfoys have been captured. They will be taken to the courtyard- the one that faces away from the forest, towards the quidditch pitch- and you will come meet us there."

"What will happen to them?" Draco's voice was tight.

Snape hesitated. "Your mother will be leaving the grounds with Professor Dumbledore. He has one final task to accomplish to guarantee the destruction of the Dark Lord, and she is the only one who can help. Your father- well, that depends on how manageable he is."

Draco looked apprehensive, but nodded his acceptance. Ron and Harry turned to go say a hurried farewell to the Weasleys and Lupin; Draco stood awkwardly on the periphery of the waiting group of seventh-year students who eyed him with varying looks of bewilderment and distrust. Hermione stayed to have a last word with Snape.

"You'll be here then?" she asked.

"Until the Malfoys are in Shacklebolt's hands," he promised. "Hermione… if you'd rather not accompany Potter… rather not have to face Lucius…"

"No," she said shortly. "I'm staying by Harry's side, for as long as I can be of any help to him."

He opened his mouth, paused, and shut it again. Finally, he nodded briskly and gave her shoulder a final, reassuring squeeze before turning and taking up post near the entrance of the hall.

* * *

The first wave came in the form of dementors. Neither solid nor ghost, they were less susceptible to the protective charms encircling the school grounds- they were able to get close enough, and were in such massive numbers, that the chilling effects of their presence swept across the grounds. Harry led the remaining members of the D.A. to a high position in the school from which they could send patronuses to aid the aurors. They were just far enough away that the ill effects of the dementors barely reached them, and the formation of patronuses was nearly flawless among those who had already done so.

Soon, the wall of shining patronus animals was nearly brighter than the sun- the dementors withdrew, and a high, cold voice filled the void.

"SO- YOU SEEK MY DEMISE, DUMBLEDORE? EVEN IF YOUR FEEBLE FORCES COULD HOPE TO OVERCOME MINE, I HAVE MORE POWER THAN YOU CAN DREAM OF."

Hermione shuddered- his very voice froze her heart.

"NEEDLESS MAGICAL BLOODSHED WILL OCCUR HERE TONIGHT. DELIVER POTTER TO ME- I'M SURE HE'S HIDING IN THE CASTLE, LETTING OTHERS FIGHT FOR HIM UNTIL THE VERY END- AND WE WILL WITHDRAW.

"UNTIL THEN…"

A great rumbling filled the air and Hermione looked towards the forest. The treetops were shaking violently and then she could hear a loud roaring, and she understood- trolls.

The very magic around them seemed to shudder as the magical barriers of the school were weakened by the sheer volume of this new onslaught. She saw aurors break into teams of five or more and take aim, desperately trying to bring down the massive creatures before they brought the entirety of the magical protection down around them.

They seemed to have marginal success before Hermione was distracted by something else- Dumbledore's phoenix patronus.

"_To the courtyard."_

* * *

"Rennervate."

Lucius Malfoy blinked several times, eyes adjusting to the daylight streaming into the courtyard. The sounds of battle- rumbling of trolls, magical explosions, screams- rang through the air, but distantly.

Eyes adjusted, he rolled to his side and stood. His wife, Narcissa, was getting to her feet several feet away with the help of another…

His blood ran cold.

"Severus?"

The man in question turned- and it was indeed Severus Snape.

"Lucius," he nodded. "I trust you are well?"

Malfoy started at him incredulously for several seconds before laughing in a somewhat off-balance way. "Well?" he demanded. "I am summoned to learn that my son has betrayed me, been ordered to find him and deliver him to most likely be tortured and killed, gotten captured, and was woken up by a friend who I've believed dead for nigh on six months!" He realized then that he still had his wand, and he pulled it out. "Are you truly Snape?" he demanded.

"He is." Another voice rang from opposite the courtyard, and on instinct, Malfoy turned and disarmed the newcomer. He then paled and felt another wand tip pressed into his back.

He had disarmed Albus Dumbledore.

"I'd give that back if I were you," Snape hissed in his ear.

Before he had the chance though, the sound of newcomers into the courtyard distracted him and he turned.

"Well now, Draco," he murmured. "Not your usual crowd of friends- the 'Boy-Who-Lived,' I see; a Weasley, Merlin alone can tell them apart; and- well, if it isn't the mudblood whore."

"_Expelliarmus!_"

The two wands in Malfoy's hand flew to Harry's, who stood, red and livid. He understood the taunt, much better than Draco or Ron could have. He'd seen what Malfoy did to Hermione.

"Harry," Hermione muttered in his ear. "Calm down. It's all right."

With something akin to a snarl, Harry looked down at the two wands in his left hand, confused. He seemed to recognize the extra, however, and looked in surprise at Dumbledore, who smiled at him, eyes twinkling, seemingly unconcerned about having been disarmed moments ago. Harry strode to him and returned the wand, keeping one eye on Malfoy the whole time, and holding on to his wand.

"Everyone would best calm down," Snape broke in silkily. "We have much to discuss."

"I have _nothing_ to discuss with the likes of you!" Malfoy snarled.

"Of course you do," Dumbledore said calmly. "Namely the well-being of Draco."

"Obviously he's just fine," Malfoy spat.

"Only as long as he stays out of the Dark Lord's hands," Snape said malevolently. "And without your help," here, his gaze shifted to Narcissa, "I can make no such guarantees. His force is ultimately larger and stronger, after all. You know that just as well as I do."

Narcissa looked between Snape and Lucius, confused. "What do you mean, my help?"

Dumbledore spoke up. "Your options today are thus: you, Narcissa, can help us destroy Voldemort," they both flinched, "or you can watch him defeat our defenses and send our forces into disarray- as well as capture and kill your son. He knows that he is here, fighting on our side. He will soon know that Draco also helped conceal Severus's survival and helped to set him up for destruction today. It is your choice, ultimately, but I advise you to think hard about it."

"No," she sounded faint. "No, you're right. I'll help you- if you guarantee Draco's safety!"

"I can make no guarantees," Snape said quietly. "Save that, if Draco is dead, then I am as well."

Narcissa looked around anxiously. Draco met her eyes coldly, but they softened a little as she held his gaze. He gave her a brief nod, and she turned to Lucius who seemed on the edge of his conflict.

"Lucius," she implored. "They're right. You know they are."

"There is no guarantee that, if you do help them, the Dark Lord will be defeated today!"

"Lucius… our son. It's his only chance now."

All of his haughtiness and pomp deflated with her last plea. He too turned to meet Draco's eyes, though he seemed to be fighting the feelings of betrayal. With a fatal sigh, he nodded and waved his hand for her to proceed.

"Excellent," Dumbledore said lowly, wasting no time. "Now, Madam Malfoy, you and I are going to travel to Gringotts. There is something I need from your family's vault."

Lucius scoffed. "Surely Draco could have assisted you with _that_."

"Ah, but it is not the Malfoy vault I speak of, but the Black vault."

There was a moment of shocked silence. "What could you possibly want with the Black family vault?" Narcissa demanded.

"Let's just say there's something in there which belongs to the school. Shall we?" he held out his arm for Narcissa and she glanced uncertainly at him. She turned back to Draco, who nodded encouragingly and Lucius who just shrugged, bewildered. She took Dumbledore's arm and moments later, Fawkes appeared, swooped low over their heads, and all three disappeared in a flash of fire.

"What are you playing at, Severus?"

Snape looked at Malfoy with utter disdain.

"Ridding the world of a deranged, evil lunatic, for one. Risking my life to save your son's, which is much more than anyone here owes you for your sake." Malfoy's eyes darted once to Hermione who met his gaze with steely challenge. "Fortunately, Draco has proved himself of a far superior mettle."

"You hardly seem to be risking your life."

"Soon," Snape sneered. "Don't sound so anxious for my true demise."

Further banter was halted by the arrival of Lupin. He looked harried and disheveled, and he sought Ron quickly.

"Ron- word's just come down from the hospital wing. Ginny and Luna have gone missing. You've not seen them?"

Ron went ashen. "No, we've been alone back here," he indicated towards Malfoy. "Do you think she's still in the castle?"

"I don't know, we can't find them and no one's seen them…"

Ron turned to Snape, who nodded once. "Go," he said curtly, and Ron went dashing back towards the castle doors. Lupin made to follow, but Snape stopped him. "Wait a moment, Lupin," he said quietly. "I need your help."

"What is it, Severus?"

"Do you know how to perform a bonding of an Unbreakable Vow?"

All eyes turned to Snape in confusion and surprise.

"Well… yes, I do…"

"Excellent. This won't take long." He turned back to Malfoy. "Draco, Potter, and I have some business to which we must attend now." Hermione looked quickly at Harry, but Harry seemed to have been aware that this was coming. His expression was grim, but hardly surprised. "First, however, I require a few things of you. Hopefully you don't think me overreacting, but somehow, I feel a little insurance of your compliance to be necessary."

Malfoy sneered, but Hermione sensed his heart wasn't truly in it anymore. He knew he had lost- even Narcissa had readily abandoned Voldemort to save Draco, and he wasn't willing to push it much further.

"Proceed."

Snape and Malfoy stood face to face and locked arms while Lupin performed the beginnings of the charm.

Snape spoke the words. "Do you, Lucius Malfoy, swear to work against the Dark Lord and accept orders from the Order of the Phoenix from here forth?"

"I will."

"Do you swear that, given the opportunity, you will attempt to kill the Dark Lord's snake named Nagini?"

Malfoy gave Snape a look that suggested he clearly thought he'd lost it. Nevertheless, he replied, "I will."

Here Snape paused. He looked over and locked eyes with Hermione, and she felt a cold apprehension wash over her.

"I am risking my life –and breaking another promise- to protect that which you love," Snape said quietly. "It, therefore, stands to reason that I ask the same of you.

"Do you swear to do all in your power to protect Hermione Granger and, if it is so deemed necessary, to remove her to a safe location, should the castle fall?"

There were several seconds of silence while Lupin and Malfoy processed Snape's request. Hermione was shaking her head and mouthing silently at Snape, too stunned to formulate words. Harry looked nearly as baffled.

"I…I will," Malfoy barely got out, gaze bouncing between the two of them as he tried to piece together what had just occurred.

With a final flourish of his wand, the magical bonds between Malfoy and Snape glowed once brightly before fading away.

"Severus," Hermione breathed, "you can't- how could you-?"

He pulled her several meters away from the stunned group, clasped her shoulders, and looked deep into her eyes.

"I'm sorry. I had no other choice."

"No other choice!" she shrieked. "How about letting me fend for myself for once?"

"That's not the point," he assured her quickly, pulling them both to their knees in the grass. "I promised to be by your side today and I can't be. I cannot, in good faith, abandon that promise without some assurance of your well-being."

"So you leave me with Malfoy?! He tortured me!" Tears began running down her cheeks freely. "Severus, he _raped_ me!"

"I know!" he said harshly. "But unfortunately, he is best poised to protect you should the Dark Lord gain the upper hand. He alone will be able to find a way to remove you from the grounds safely as his loyalty will not be suspect."

He spoke with effort. "I am sorry, truly. If I had another option- but I cannot ask any of our own to do this, to jeopardize the defenses- for my own peace of mind... Please understand."

With a great effort, she nodded through her tears and he pulled her into a tight embrace.

"I have to go now," he murmured. "I have work to do with Draco and Potter."

She nodded once more and he stood, pulling her to her feet as well. He placed one fleeting kiss on her forehead before turning away with effort. He approached Malfoy and, reaching in his robes, pulled out a yellowed, curved object which Hermione recognized with effort as a fang- a basilisk fang, she realized.

"You must use this to destroy Nagini," he said stiffly. "Nothing else will work."

Malfoy nodded curtly, placing the fang in an outer pocket of his robes. He then turned with obvious effort to Harry. "My wand, Potter?" Harry handed it over, withdrawing his hand quickly once it was taken.

Harry approached Hermione and hugged her tightly. "Good luck," she whispered.

"You too." His eyes were sad when they parted, and Hermione had an awful sense that Harry didn't expect to see her again. Then he was gone though, and she wondered if she was just being paranoid. He and Snape walked slowly across the courtyard towards the side opposite the school- the side nearer the Forbidden Forest, though Hermione could not see it from her current position. The sounds of fighting could still be heard, sometimes louder and sometimes quieter- she thought it sounded like Voldemort's forces were still held in the forest, but she couldn't be sure.

Draco lagged, feeling he should say something to his father.

"Father-"

"Go, Draco," Lucius cut him off. "Come back alive. Severus is waiting."

Hermione gave him a fierce hug and a kiss on the cheek before he joined the other two waiting on the opposite side of the courtyard. They walked around the corner, towards the close edge of the forest; none of them turned back around.

Hermione was left with Lupin and Malfoy- she turned to face them with effort.

"Who is in charge of the defenses now?"

"I- what?" Lupin was befuddled.

"Dumbledore is gone and now so is Severus," she said, deciding it was time to drop pretenses and formalities. "Kingsley is in charge on the field, but I have no idea who is coordinating in the middle anymore."

"Oh- Minerva, I think."

Hermione nodded wearily and then headed back towards the castle, Lupin and Malfoy following her- one trio walking back into safety, she mused, while another headed headlong into danger.

* * *

*in my world, Fawkes's form of travel is exclusive to Dumbledore & those with him physically- don't know if that's true or not in JKRs world, but it didn't really seem worth it to try and look it up ;-)

**A/N: WOW. I've been waiting to write that chapter for ages- it's been playing in my head for so long- ever since I settled on my finale for this story. That's why it's also far longer than any other chapter- I just couldn't stop :-) I had to get to the scene with the Vow. **

**In other news, this chapter could alternately be known as 'the one in which Hermione hugs everybody several times.' ;-P **

**I really hope you enjoyed- stay tuned, of course, for the last… eh, I wanna say 2 chapters… not too specifically planned out, but we're probably looking at one or two chapters of final action and then one of post-action wrap-up. **

**Much love.**


	35. Chapter 34

**Disclaimer: does not belong to me. Sadly. I make no money and am most decidedly NOT richer than the queen. **

**A/N: Thanks to all reviewers, readers, favorite-ers, etc. You guys make my day.**

**Chapter 34**

"Albus gave it to you, Potter?" Harry nodded and reached in his pocket, pulling out a small object which Draco did not recognize- it looked like nothing more than a small stone. "And you have the cloak?" Harry patted a bulge in his robe. "Did you take the potion?"

"No, sir."

"Very well then," Snape sighed heavily. "And you, Draco?"

"Sir?"

"The potion to defend you from the killing curse- did you take it?"

"I- yes, I did." Draco looked in confusion at Harry. "You didn't? I don't understand…"

"My path lies in a different direction," Harry stated quietly but firmly. There was not a tremor in his voice.

"Wait." Draco stopped short as the three entered the forest. Voldemort's forces had been relatively contained to the far end, and they walked undisturbed. "Wait. This isn't what I signed up for."

"Draco," Harry murmured. "It doesn't matter. It's what must be done."

"I thought the bloody point of coming out here was for you to kill him! Not the other way around! I thought we were both supposed to feign death for as long as possible… and then you would strike when the opportunity was right…"

"The plan had to change," Snape spoke softly. "I'm sorry we couldn't tell you sooner."

"I don't understand," Draco's voice was full of grief, and Harry felt a surge of compassion for the young man he had disliked for so much of his life.

"There are a great many things about death that Voldemort doesn't understand," Harry told him. "By killing me, he will bring himself closer to mortality. There is no other way- but when I'm gone, you need to focus on killing the snake before you attempt to kill him- remember that."

"Silence now," Snape muttered. "We will soon be approaching their outer forces. Tuck your wands in deep pockets where they will not be seen. I will bind your hands."

He flourished his wand and, with a crack, Harry found his hands tied in front of him as though with invisible rope. Snape walked ahead, crunching through the underbrush, and Harry and Draco, bound, followed behind- captives to be delivered to Voldemort.

* * *

"Ron- Ron!"

He skidded to a halt as he went running past the Great Hall.

"Oi, Hermione, you're back!"

"Yeah, listen, did you find Ginny and Luna?" she asked anxiously.

He sighed ruefully. "Yup, they were on top of the Astronomy Tower- Fred and George found them."

"Did they make them go back to the hospital wing?"

"No," he smiled guiltily. "They were too impressed- the girls were levitating boulders from by the lake, see, and using them to knock out the big trolls that the aurors were having trouble stunning. Fred and George stayed up there to help them though, so they should be safe for now." He looked around. "Where's Harry? And Snape?" he asked. Then he caught sight of Malfoy, who was standing uncomfortably next to Lupin, talking to McGonagall. "And what's _he_ doing here?"

Hermione groaned. "Honestly, I don't know what's happening with Harry, Draco, and Professor Snape," she said. "But right after you left, Snape had Malfoy take an Unbreakable Vow to work with the Order and to try to kill Voldemort's snake, if occasion arises. So I guess he's sort of stuck here," she grimaced, not feeling the need to explain the third condition of the vow.

"Oh," Ron frowned. "Weird."

* * *

Minerva McGonagall frowned as Lucius Malfoy walked away. "I'm not sure I entirely understand the arrangement," she told Remus Lupin.

"How so?" he asked lightly.

"If he is to aid the Order and try to kill the snake… would those tasks not be better served by sending him back to You-Know-Who instead?"

"Ah," Lupin grimaced, "the impression I received from Severus was that would hinder whatever he is trying to accomplish with Draco and Harry. And it would impede the successful completion of the third term of Lucius's vow," he muttered.

"Third term?" McGonagall spoke sharply. "What was it?"

"To protect Hermione Granger and remove her from the grounds if Voldemort should gain the upper hand."

"Granger? Why?"

"Apparently he loves her."

"Hm," McGonagall reflected. "Interesting."

* * *

"Granger," a voice ground out stiffly. "A word?" She groaned inwardly, braced herself, and turned, face an impassive mask. Ron stood by her side, eyeing Malfoy with intense dislike. "Privately, if you please?" he looked livid to even be in this situation.

Ron opened his mouth to retort but Hermione put a restraining hand on his arm. "It's alright, Ron," she said quietly.

"I don't like you being alone with him," Ron said forcefully.

"He's under a vow now though," the challenge returned to Hermione's eyes as she looked coldly at Malfoy. "He can't do anything to harm the Order; he can't touch me."

Steely grey eyes met unforgiving brown, but Hermione nodded a sharp acquiescence and led the way purposefully to an empty classroom down a nearby corridor. She shut the door with a snap and stood against it, arms folded across her chest.

"Well?" she asked. "There's a battle going on and I don't have all day."

"How does this work?" his voice was dangerously soft. "If I am to 'protect' you, I shall need to remain near you--"

"No," Hermione cut him off, "let me explain something to you; the only reason I haven't cursed you into oblivion already is out of respect for Severus's wishes. If I'd had my way, that term of the vow would have been released."

"'Severus'," Malfoy repeated quietly, mockingly. "My, I must have looked quite the fool last year…to think that you were…"

"Stop," she said harshly. "We are _not_ going to go through every deceit into which you were drawn by Severus, myself, or Draco." She took several calming breaths. "I am going to check in with the students who are defending the castle- follow if you must, but stay out of my way," she hissed. She turned the door handle, stopped, and looked back around at Malfoy. "What happens if two conditions of the Unbreakable Vow conflict with each other?"

"How do you mean?"

"If you had to choose between protecting me, or killing Nagini- what would happen?"

"I would be free to choose, recognizing the impossibility of upholding both terms," he responded flatly.

"I see," Hermione mused. "Be sure," she added sharply, "that if such a situation arises, you choose the snake over me."

He sneered and opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by a sudden shuddering of the castle. "What-?" he started to ask before a loud crash and several screams could be heard. The very walls of Hogwarts seem to reverberate around them.

"The defenses are down," Hermione muttered, tearing through the door and heading for the nearest staircase. The crash had seemed to come from above…

She followed the noise and then the dust. That entire side of the third floor looked as though it had undergone some sort of explosion. Teachers were already on the scene- Flitwick could be seen waving his wand, clearing the air and returning large stones to their place of origin in the castle walls; Sprout was there, helping shaken students through the dust and rubble; and she saw Professor Vector kneeling down, moving frantically- Hermione peered around her and gasped in shock.

Hannah Abbott lay unconscious on the floor, her arm held at a strange angle, and a bloody wound on her head. Opposite Vector was Neville Longbottom, who took Hannah's hand of her uninjured arm.

"What happened?" Hermione asked.

"We were using the windows to fire jinxes down towards some of the death eaters who had gotten past the tree line," Neville explained quickly. "And then they had the magical defenses down just like that, and a bunch of them aimed curses for us. We scattered, but some stones hit her as she ran… will she be alright?" he asked Vector.

"We need to get her to Madam Pomfrey, right away," Vector replied. She waved her wand and conjured a stretcher onto which she levitated the injured girl. She left quickly, stretcher by her side, Neville following close behind.

Hermione closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. Shaken but feeling slightly calmer, she began to walk down the same corridor, trying to find something she could do to help- but was stopped by a hand on her arm.

"What?" she asked harshly, pulling her arm violently out of Malfoy's grasp. He had a strange look on his face- part bewildered, part disgusted.

"The oh-so-noble Order of the Phoenix has _students_ fighting for them?" he asked lowly. "Mere children defending the walls of Hogwarts?"

"They're all of age," she snapped. "They chose to stay. Besides," she hissed, "students getting hurt never bothered you before, why start now?"

He looked outraged. "I never-!"

"Harry was fourteen when he met Voldemort in the graveyard!" she exclaimed. "You were there- did that look like an even fight to you? He was twelve when he was nearly killed by a basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets, and that was _your_ doing!"

"I--"

"And what about _me_?" she demanded. "What qualms did you have last year when you thought a professor was coercing his student into his bed? What qualms did you have two months ago when I was captive at--"

"Your point is made, Granger, you--"

SMACK!

She stood breathing heavily, looking slightly stunned at what she'd just done. He put a hand to the red spot on his face but was otherwise frozen in place.

She laughed mirthlessly and shook her head. "I don't know why I expend the energy on you," she said disparagingly. "You're despicable." She turned. "Stay away from me."

"Like it or not, Granger," he called as he followed from a distance, "you're stuck with me for now- unless you'd rather stun me or kill me first," he added sarcastically.

She whipped around to face him once more. "Fine! But don't talk to me, or I might take you up on that offer." She paused, realizing something. "Damn it," she cursed. She stuck one hand into her robes, and Malfoy thought briefly that she was planning to curse him. Instead she pulled a small vial from her pocket and thrust it into his hand.

"Here, drink this."

He eyed it skeptically. "What is it?"

"How do you think Severus Snape survived six months ago? Or Amelia Bones, when she was attacked outside the Ministry by three death eaters?" She sighed. "Don't make me regret giving this to you."

* * *

"Severusss…"

"My lord," he knelt in front of Voldemort. "Forgive me- I have been forced to remain hidden from you these long months."

"Explain!" the cold voice hissed.

"I feared your wrath my lord, the night of the moon ritual; the old fool Dumbledore suspected, I think, my involvement, gave me several time-consuming tasks which he claimed to be direly urgent. I was unable to attend. In my place, I sent a common villager from Hogsmeade, under the influence of the _Imperius_ curse and the polyjuice potion. I beg your forgiveness for having so deceived you."

"If that is true, Severus," he demanded, "why did you not reveal yourself to me since then?"

"I knew your wrath, my lord, would be great unless I were able to deliver, at last, that which you have been seeking. Dumbledore thought to use the idea of my 'death' to his advantage- though he was displeased that I had caused the death of the villager- he is a fool. The ploy has been advantageous, it is true, but for you, not for him. Finally, I am able to bring you Potter." He snapped his fingers and Mulciber and Travers emerged from the trees, pulling behind them the bound and silenced Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter. "As an extra gift, I have brought also the traitor, my lord."

"And where are his parents, whom I sent after him some time ago?"

"They were fools, my lord. Captured and imprisoned."

Voldemort's thin mouth tilted in a deranged smile. "I cannot say I am surprised. Draco, Draco," he murmured softly. "I was so very disappointed that you have been misleading me- I thought you would be my next great follower. Like your parents, however, you have at last displayed your incompetence. Theirs is foolishness- yours is weakness.

"I thought to make a display of your betrayal; fortunately for you, I now have more important things to worry about," he directed his cold gaze to Harry. "Out of respect for your parents who served me well, despite their incompetence here displayed, I will make your end quick and painless. Goodbye, Draco."

There was a flash of green light- Draco fell backwards, hit the ground, and did not move again. All eyes returned to Voldemort and Harry.

"Harry Potter," Voldemort's crooked smile grew. "At last your time is come. Did you truly think your scheme could work? Yes, I know what you've been doing- or trying to do. And I also know just how great your failure is. You and Dumbledore thought to see through all of my plans- let me here and now assure you that you have failed. Completely and utterly."

"There will be no duel tonight, Harry Potter. I will not give luck another chance to save you. Goodbye, Harry Potter."

With bated breath, Snape watched the green light speed towards Potter; he too fell and ceased to move. He heard gasps, looked up- and Voldemort lay prone on the ground as well.

* * *

Harry approached the wrinkled old man with a sense of keen curiosity mingled with fear and anticipation. The man smiled, however, and beckoned welcomingly. And then Harry thought he looked familiar.

"Harry Potter- never did I imagine that I would one day meet you. Fate plays funny tricks on us."

"Erm…"

"You, of course, don't know me- my time was long before yours. Let me attempt to explain, however…"

And then it clicked. He _did_ recognize the man; he'd never met him in real life- but he'd seen him in a dream.

"You're Grindelwald!" Harry took an involuntary step back at this realization. Had he been murdered by one dark wizard to then go meet another in the next life?

Grindelwald looked taken aback and then he laughed. And Harry was surprised, because it was not the cold, heartless laugh of Voldemort, but rather, a sound full of joy and mischief.

"Oh, Albus warned me that you were an astounding young lad!"

"Albus? Dumbledore? Wait, I don't understand. You're dead… then I'm dead too, right? But where are we? And why are _you_ here? And--"

"Harry."

Harry's insides turned cold as he recognized the voice of the new speaker. He turned in great dismay to come face-to-face with none other than Albus Dumbledore.

"Are you dead too then?" he asked, choked up with grief.

Dumbledore smiled kindly. "Dying," he amended. "But listen up, Harry, and listen well; there is a great much we must explain to you before you can go back."

"Back? Am I not dead then? But I didn't drink the potion!"

Dumbledore smiled. "On the whole, I think it matters not. For if there is one thing which Voldemort does not understand, it is death. Nor does he understand power, nor power over death." He paused and looked gravely into Harry's eyes. "Harry, let's talk about the Elder Wand."

* * *

Just as the onslaught was beginning to become overwhelming for the aurors and the Order, it stopped. Voldemort's forces retreated into the forest, and the aurors were able to tend to their injured- as well as remove the dead from the field. Hermione, however relieved for the reprieve, did not like to think about the implications of such.

"Well?" she demanded of Malfoy. "What's he waiting for?"

"Clearly," he responded coolly, "I've no idea."

Further speculation, however, was cut off by the renewed sound of the magically enhanced, cold and chilling voice of Voldemort, reverberating throughout the castle and across the grounds.

"MY FORCES HAVE RETREATED; I TRUST YOU WILL WISELY DO THE SAME, FOR I HAVE NO WISH TO SPILL FURTHER MAGICAL BLOOD HERE. JUST KNOW THAT YOU HAVE LOST- YOUR ONLY HOPE- THE SUPPOSED GREAT HARRY POTTER IS DEAD."

Hermione staggered and used her hand to brace herself against the wall. Cries of shock could be heard from down the hallway and Hermione turned and met Ron's ashen appearance.

"He can't be," Ron muttered to her. But Ron, Hermione reflected, hadn't been there for that final moment; hadn't seen the resolute look on Harry's face as he'd crossed the field with Snape. "What about the potion, anyway? If You-Know-Who had tried to cast the killing curse…?"

"There are more ways to kill someone than by killing curse," Hermione responded monotonously.

"DUMBLEDORE HAS PROVED HIMSELF A COWARD AND FLED THE GROUNDS. YOU ARE LEADERLESS AND YOU HAVE BEEN BETRAYED BY ONE THOUGHT TO BE YOUR FRIEND."

As he spoke, a force could be seen entering the far edges of the grounds. The aurors had retreated to the castle walls, and Hermione sensed that, like her, McGonagall was in shock, unsure if she should believe Voldemort.

It was only humans- in death eater attire- who entered the grounds of Hogwarts, and they did not proceed more than a hundred meters from the edge of the forest. They broke off into two columns and through the middle emerged Voldemort, wand raised high- in front of him levitated two silent and still figures…

Malfoy let out a strangled cry.

"Draco…!" he turned to run towards the stairs, but Hermione grabbed him and held him back, albeit with some difficultly.

"Stop!" she panted. "You musn't be seen by Voldemort- not yet."

"That's my son!" Malfoy was frantic. "I cannot tell if he is even still alive…"

"YOU SEE? YOU WERE FOOLS TO THINK A MERE BOY COULD DESTROY ME. HOW FARES THE 'BOY-WHO-LIVED' NOW? CRUCIO!"

Hermione watched in devastated distress as the bodies of Harry and Draco were lifted and tossed in the air- but they did not move, they made no sound.

"They're dead," she whispered in shock. Malfoy let out a low moan and fell to his knees. "Then is Severus dead too?"

"No," Malfoy said flatly. "Do you not see him? He stands at a position of honor- on the Dark Lord's left side, opposite Bellatrix."

She didn't think she could have been in more shock than she was already, but it was like a blow to the stomach. Without another thought, she turned and marched down the corridor- already, people were filing out of the castle onto the lawn, fight forgotten in light of this new, devastating development. If Harry was dead, Dumbledore gone…

"Granger, what are you doing?" Malfoy had regained some semblance of composure and followed her.

"Going out there," she said harshly.

"They'll kill you."

"They'll kill me anyway."

"Well then let me put it like this: if you go out there into direct danger and I do not stop you or die in the attempt, my life is forfeit to the vow I made!"

She turned abruptly, startling him. "Vow?" she asked snidely. "The vow was made on the pretense that Severus would keep your son safe- clearly he did not. You are released from your end of the bargain. And if you don't believe that," she added, "it would be in the interests of the Order if you remained where you are; once Voldemort sees you acting on our side, you will have little chance to get at the snake. Watch from the windows if you must- I however, will not allow you to accompany me."

Malfoy noted the determined, yet cold look in her eyes, sighed heavily, and nodded. She quickly ran down the stairs, through the corridor on the first floor, past the entrance hall, and out the front gates.

Malfoy was left in shock on the third floor. If the vow were indeed forfeit, he was free to do as he pleased, he reflected. In truth, he did not belong in either camp, not anymore. Perhaps, he thought, he should join the surviving aurors- at least when he died, he'd die among members of the Ministry, and not allied with either side technically.

He'd almost convinced himself to go down, damn Granger's instructions, when a commotion from the far end of the corridor caught his attention. It was the Longbottom boy.

"He's lying!" Longbottom yelled. "Dumbledore's not fled- he's here, in the hospital wing!"

Possessed by a sudden vigor, Malfoy ran dead-on for the hospital wing. If Dumbledore were back, then Narcissa should be as well…

"You can't see him," Poppy Pomfrey was adamant. "He's very weak, falling in and out of consciousness."

"He knows where my wife is!" Malfoy yelled, desperate to learn if he'd lost all of his family in one fell swoop.

"Be that as it may, it doesn't change--"

"Poppy," a weak voice called from behind the curtain. "Poppy, it's alright. Let him by."

With a sigh, she stood aside and Malfoy dashed through the gap in the curtain- and was taken aback at just how _old_ Dumbledore looked.

"Where is she?" he asked frantically.

Dumbledore nodded slightly, though it seemed to cost him great strength. "She chose to return to the Forbidden Forest, once our mission was accomplished."

"She _what_?"

"I told her of Severus's plans- she chose to return, in the event that she could help pull them through."

"Severus has betrayed you!" Malfoy insisted. "I saw my son, and I saw Potter- they are dead, and the Dark Lord is using their bodies as sport! You failed, old man! Do you not see that?"

"Lucius," Dumbledore held up a hand, and his voice was barely above a whisper. "Wait; let events continue to unfold- I suspect you are deceived."

He slipped back into unconsciousness after that and Malfoy scoffed. He was old, dying, and apparently unhinged if he still thought his side had a fighting chance in this battle.

* * *

Hermione stepped onto the grass in a cold fury. There were others around her, tending to wounded, transporting them inside, and others who simply stood in shock, will to fight completely destroyed.

"Misss Granger," Voldemort hissed, seeing her approach the line of death eaters. "You have been the slippery one lately, haven't you?"

She ignored him. "Snape," she called coldly. His dark eyes met hers blankly. "I trusted you." Most of the death eaters laughed.

Snape looked to Voldemort for approval and then approached her slowly. "I told you," he said silkily, "never to assume anything about my intentions."

She raised a hand to slap him, wand forgotten, but he seized both of her wrists in a bruising grip and looked straight into her eyes. "Go back to Lucius," he murmured lowly, moving his lips as little as possible. After a few seconds, he shoved her away from him in apparent disgust.

"Severus," Voldemort chided, "I thought you had a certain affection for the girl?" More laughter.

"No, my lord," he responded indifferently. "My use for her is at an end."

Hermione would have been hurt and offended, but was still trying to understand his order. What's more, as she'd stumbled away from him, she'd seen the face of a mask-less death eater near the back. It was Narcissa Malfoy.

She looked from Narcissa to Snape and then once at the bodies of Harry and Draco, lying on the grass now. Before she could begin to comprehend what Narcissa's presence meant, however, shouts rang out from the forest; hooves could be heard approaching quickly, and the host of death eaters began to stream forward, towards where Hermione stood several meters away from Voldemort, Snape, and Bellatrix.

Her arm was caught from behind and she was pulled back towards the castle by Kingsley. The troupe of death eaters followed, trying to remove themselves from the approaching centaurs who were beginning to fire arrows into the host. In the midst of the confusion, she could hear Remus calling out, "Harry! What's happened to the bodies?"

Before anyone could try to recollect themselves, however, the death eater force was forcing the Order and aurors back into the school, and battle was breaking out all over again, chaotic as curses smashed into walls and doors. Hermione saw several students come running from the upper levels and she wanted to tell them to return to relative safety, but she was unable to reach them, separated by a wall of death eaters.

"_Stupefy_!" Everitt went dashing by, dropping a masked woman to the ground behind Hermione. "Hermione, look sharp! She almost got you!"

Hermione shook her head violently and tried to bring herself back to awareness of her surroundings. She ducked as a poorly aimed curse missed its target several feet in front of her and came hurtling towards her head. She took careful aim and dropped the death eater she recognized as Mulciber.

She took stock of her surroundings. Bellatrix Lestrange was dueling Remus Lupin and Kingsley Shacklebolt, who were strongly vying for the upper hand against the off, but skilled duelist. In the Great Hall, auror and death eater alike had ceased hostilities briefly while Voldemort took on McGonagall, Moody, and Flitwick all at once. She looked around desperately for Snape but didn't see him- she thought she caught a brief glimpse of Narcissa Malfoy, but then she was gone.

"_Avada Kedavra!_" Time seemed to slow as the beam of red light headed towards and encircled Remus Lupin- he flew backwards with the force of the spell and hit the wall- he fell to the floor, noticeably dazed, but definitely still alive.

"Remus!" Hermione exclaimed. Lestrange took the opportunity of Kingsley's concern for Lupin to knock him backwards too, and then she turned her attention to Hermione.

"Hermione Granger," she taunted. "You are quite the enigma, aren't you? _Crucio!_" Hermione dove aside barely in time and found herself rained down upon by rubble from the damaged wall. "So rumors of the defense against the killing curse are true?" she asked. "No matter- there are many, much more painful ways to kill you. _Sectumsempra!_"

Hermione wasn't fast enough, as she fought to remove herself from the rubble-strewn floor- the curse caught her shoulder and she spun to the floor again, gasping in pain, feeling warm blood seeping from her left shoulder. She rolled over and raised her wand- "Stupe--"

"_Expelliarmus!_"

Her wand flew aside and Hermione lay defenseless and bleeding- she looked around but everyone around her was otherwise engaged, could not spare a spell to stop Bellatrix from bringing the whole wall down upon her head…

The pain was becoming too much for her- as she felt her mind begin to fog slowly over with unconsciousness, she thought she heard Snape's voice, very distantly yell, "Hermione!"

She blinked her eyes through the haze and saw Bellatrix raise her wand, final curse on her lips. Hermione closed her eyes and thought about Harry when-

"_Avada Kedavra_."

She looked up in surprise. There was a fleeting expression of triumph on the face of Bellatrix Lestrange as she fell to the floor. She was dead.

Stunned, Hermione looked up to thank her savior, and her voice caught in her throat when she saw the stony grey eyes.

Lucius Malfoy had just murdered his own sister-in-law. To uphold a forfeit vow. To save her life. And he looked just about as stunned about this as she felt.

"Hermione!" Snape reached her side and knelt before her- before he could do or say anything else, however Malfoy grabbed him by the throat and shoved him against the wall.

"What have you done?" he demanded. "You swore to me- swore to protect Draco at all costs, and instead, I see my son's body used as sport for the Dark Lord's amusement!"

"Father."

He released Snape and turned to see Draco standing before him, pale and frightened, but very much alive. He pulled him into a tight embrace, despite his protests, despite the duels still raging around them…

Snape quickly picked up Hermione and took her down an abandoned corridor, setting her down once more to examine her injured shoulder. He began tracing the cut with his wand, muttering an incantation.

As the wound healed, the pain diminished, and Hermione was able to think more clearly. Before she could get a word in edgewise, however, there was a great blast of magical energy, and an infuriated roar. Voldemort had learnt of the fall of his last, best lieutenant.

"Luciusss…" he hissed. "Not only incompetent- but a traitor?"

Malfoy stood his ground, head held high. "My loyalty is to my family before you_, my lord_."

Voldemort caught sight of Draco and paused. "So Severus is not the only one who can pull that trick, I see," he said quietly. "No matter." He turned. "Nagini," he called. Then he hissed something in Parseltongue, and the snake slithered through the doorway and approached Malfoy, who went pale and stood stock-still.

"I'm sorry, Lucius," Voldemort said coldly. "I wish I could tell you that your end will be painless…"

The snake came closer and Malfoy slipped his wand into his pocket- Hermione, who had crept round the corner and was watching fearfully, thought this very strange- until his hand reemerged and he grasped something else. Something yellow-ish and curved.

Nagini wrapped herself around Lucius's body, and still he remained unmoving. As she moved higher, he held his hand high to keep it free- and then, as she went to wrap herself a third time, bringing herself close to his neck, he struck, plunging the tip of the basilisk fang into the snake's neck.

The snake writhed and fell away from him, clearly in extreme pain. Voldemort roared in fury once more, recognizing the slow unhinging of his victory. He raised his wand finally and directed it at Lucius and Draco…

"Now, Potter!"

"_Protego!_"

Hermione watched in awe as Harry stepped out from beneath the invisibility cloak, casting a shield charm towards Lucius and Draco… but it didn't stop there. The shield reached up and behind him, throughout the Entrance Hall- protecting them all against Voldemort.

* * *

**A/N: well here's your New Years present :-) Can mine be a review? 0:-)**

**Hoping to get this done this weekend… eek! Look for more updates soon! **

**Cheers!**


	36. Chapter 35

**Disclaimer: As much fun as I've had writing this, I'm not doing it for money. **

**Chapter 35**

"Everyone, stay back," Harry called. "Don't try to help- it has to be me, and me alone."

Voldemort laughed, a bone-chilling noise that nearly made Hermione's hair stand on end. "Potter doesn't mean that," he hissed, "He survives by using others as his shield. Who will die in your stead today, little Potter?"

Harry shook his head and- to Hermione's great surprise- he was smiling, as though he had not a care in the world. "No one," he replied calmly. "It's just you and me- no help, and no horcruxes." Voldemort's head cocked slightly in confusion, though he quickly masked it. "Did you truly think," Harry asked sadly, "that we had not discovered the last three?"

Three? Hermione thought hard. They had only established six definitive ones- was this what Snape had been hiding from her for much of the past couple of weeks? Had they discovered another horcrux?

"What fairy tale is this, Potter?"

"Your snake is dead at the hand of your once-faithful servant," he inclined his head sharply in acknowledgement of Malfoy. "And the goblet of Helga Hufflepuff is destroyed in the very vault in which you endeavored to keep it safe- with the help of that same servant's wife.

"And the third horcrux," he continued quietly, "was destroyed by your own hand."

"Preposterous!" Voldemort spat. "There was no seventh!" Hermione found it to be a sign of Voldemort's nervousness that he would so openly verify what Harry was saying.

"There was," Harry contested quietly. "Did you never wonder why I could speak to snakes? Why the Sorting Hat so clearly saw some of Slytherin in me? When you tried to kill me sixteen years ago, Riddle, you did more than deprive yourself of a body- you fractured your soul once more beyond repair- and that last part, blasted apart from the whole, attached itself to me. And you destroyed that part of yourself tonight when you sought to kill me."

"But clearly," Voldemort hissed, "you are not dead." The expression on his face clearly indicated his desire for the opposite to be true. "Your _Order_ is just full of tricks, and this seems to be the latest; I can only regret I did not see it in time. The many-faced Snape would have met a slow and painful end." Hermione looked up at Snape- they stood together on the outskirts of the crowd, watching the confrontation with bated breath. "Can't you see, Potter," he whispered, "that it matters not?"

"And why is that?" Harry asked mildly.

Voldemort held up his wand. "I have the Elder Wand, Potter! The Deathstick- it is the most powerful wand known to wizard kind!"

Harry smiled broadly. "So it is," he agreed. "But only in the hands of its true master." Voldemort was expressionless, but Hermione could see the wheels turning in his head. "Though you may physically _possess_ the Elder wand, Riddle- _I_ am the master of death; not you."

There was absolute stillness in the Great Hall at this pronouncement. Death eaters stood amongst members of the Order and vice-versa- all knew that the outcome hinged on this confrontation unfolding before them, and that it was pointless to cause more pain and bloodshed at this point. Voldemort laughed again, mirthlessly.

"Harry Potter, master of death," he mocked. "No, Potter- I have spent decades delving into the deepest secrets of this world; I have undergone changes fearsome to behold to learn the meaning of immortality. And you? You were saved by a mere trick of fate and then several lucky encounters; you are an annoyance, a little boy with no special magical talent. And today you will meet your end, as you should have sixteen years ago!"

Harry looked on sadly. "But those decades discovering immortality did nothing for you, did they?" he asked quietly. "We have won on that front already and now- now you are left clinging to a fairy tale hope."

"This wand I stole from Grindelwald himself! I killed him, I did what Dumbledore was never able and, in doing so, I have made myself more powerful than you can imagine, horcruxes or no!"

"You are a fool," Harry stated bluntly.

"You dare--!"

"Yes," Harry said harshly, "I dare. For in all of your time spent learning the secrets of death, you never once encountered those of life. Never learnt the power of children's tales, nor the power of love--"

"Always _love_ with you and Dumbledore," Voldemort sneered.

"Yes. Love is what stayed Dumbledore's hand when it could have taken Grindelwald's life. Love is what tricked you into the overconfidence you are here displaying- the Elder Wand does not answer to you- it never has."

"You idiot boy…"

"Don't you get it?" Harry exploded. "Grindelwald _tricked _you. In honor of a friendship of a lifetime ago, he tricked you into thinking you could master the wand- to help Dumbledore, the true master of the wand when you took it from Grindelwald… and to help me. So that when I faced you, I would be facing a wand which, not only does not acknowledge you as its true master, but acknowledges my ally as such."

"Indeed," Voldemort hissed. "And where is the old fool now?"

"Dying," Harry said simply, and many in the hall let out gasps. "The quest to destroy your soul has greatly weakened him, it has been for many months. But he is not the master of the Elder Wand, not anymore. I am. For you see, one wizard here _did_ manage to disarm Dumbledore tonight, against his will- call it a miscommunication- and I in turn took it from him."

And Hermione realized- when she had run into the courtyard with Harry and Ron, and Malfoy had insulted her… Harry had disarmed Malfoy, confused at finding two wands in his hand.

Voldemort smiled triumphantly, a cruel and evil smile that contorted his already twisted features to a remarkable degree.

"Then you are truly a fool, Harry Potter. You came into the forest, and I overpowered _you_. If death is not a requisite factor in being master of the Wand, than I _am_ its master."

"Don't you learn?" Harry asked incredulously. "I _chose_ to go to my own death, not knowing that the Elder Wand owed me its allegiance, not yet. You gave my mother a choice, Riddle, and the power of her sacrifice protected me from you through my childhood. I had the same choice, and I chose death- and now you cannot touch any of these people. Your spells are non-binding- you cannot hurt them." Harry paused. "Why do you think you were able to cast cruciatus curse after curse upon me and Draco without our feeling it?

"You could have learned- for there is more truth in children's stories than you could possibly know. Had you looked beyond the false promise of power given by the Elder Wand, you could have learned the rest of the tale- that the wand leads to death and misery. You could have learned the value and folly of the power to resurrect the dead," here, Harry held out a small stone; Hermione saw a flash of confused recognition in Voldemort's eyes. "Yes," Harry nodded, "the Resurrection Stone, bearing the Peverell crest- the sign of the Deathly Hallows. You possessed it for a time- in fact, ironically, you used its ring as a horcrux. Had you researched the Peverells, from whom you are descended, you might have discovered that the youngest and wisest son, Ignotus, knew the secret of death; and that secret was to not fear it. Ignotus's contribution to the Hallows was a Cloak of Invisibility- it allowed him to avoid the confrontations brought on by the Elder Wand, saved him the grief caused by the Resurrection Stone- but still it protected him in this life until he was ready to advance to the next. And he met Death as an equal… and then he passed on his cloak… generation through generation… until it came to my father- and now to me."

Harry held up the Invisibility Cloak.

"So you see?" he asked quietly. "I am the rightful inheritor of the means to be equal with Death- I have come into the possession of the means to reverse Death- and the means to cause it? That now answers to me as well. I _am_ the true master of death.

"_That_ is why you could not kill me tonight- turning a wand on its own master does funny things- and all you succeeded in doing was killing the fragment of your own soul left in my body."

Looking at Harry, awed, Hermione saw a radiance of power and confidence that she had only ever associated before with Dumbledore. It seemed that Voldemort might have seen the same thing, because he looked suddenly frightened.

"You should try for some remorse," Harry told him softly. "It is your only remaining chance."

With a snarl of fury, Voldemort brought his wand to bear on Harry- Hermione gasped, and Snape, standing behind her, grabbed her upper arms and pulled her close. Harry raised his wand simultaneously…

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

"_Expelliarmus!"_

The green and red lights sped towards one another, collided in midair, and both rebounded upon Voldemort. The Elder Wand flew high, arcing across the room- Harry reached up and grabbed it at the same moment that Voldemort fell dead to the floor.

There was silence- and then the room exploded with cries of joy and celebration. Recognizing their defeat, death eaters began removing their masks and holding out their wands for the aurors to collect as they rounded them up. Students, teachers, and members of the Order of the Phoenix laughed, cried, and hugged each other; Hermione slumped exhaustedly against Snape and he put his arms around her- neither seemed quite sure what to say to the other.

Draco approached them, still looking pale but relieved. "Professor Dumbledore is in the hospital wing," he told them quietly. "My father saw him not long ago, but he says he looked in a bad way."

"I'll get Harry," Hermione murmured, pulling out of Snape's grasp and delving into the crowd which had engulfed the victorious boy-who-lived. Many people stood aside for her, however, and she wasn't sure if it was because they acknowledged her as Harry's friend or for some other reason.

When he saw her, Harry dashed forward and pulled her into a tight embrace. She took that opportunity to whisper into his ear. "Dumbledore's upstairs in the hospital wing. Apparently he's not doing too well." But then she recalled what Harry had said to Voldemort. "Wait, how did _you_ know he was dying?" Harry pulled away and smiled sadly.

"Stories for another time," he replied, grasping her hand and pulling her through the crowd. "Have you seen Ron?" He looked around, craning to see over the heads of other, taller people. "For that matter, have you seen _any_ of the Weasleys?"

Hermione realized with a start that she hadn't, and an awful feeling of foreboding came over her.

They rejoined Snape and slipped out of the Great Hall; Draco returned to talk alone with his parents. Hermione was reasonably certain that Harry would soon be missed, but there was too much going on at the moment for anyone to notice him leaving.

They approached the hospital wing and Hermione could hear many voices at once… they walked in the doors, and it was a sea of redheads. She hurried over to the beds where they were crowded and her heart leapt in her throat.

In one bed lay Mr. Weasley, head heavily-bandaged. He was conscious, however, and smiled at Hermione and Harry as they approached. "Harry," he said, "I'm sorry I could not be down to witness that; from what I heard though, it was a sight to behold." His voice was shaky, however, and the Weasleys as a whole looked rather forlorn.

That's when Hermione noticed the next bed- a sheet was pulled over the face of whoever had been treated there.

"Wha-?" she couldn't formulate a proper question, and instead, turned and began to frantically take inventory of the Weasley family. She could find no one missing, however,

"It's Mad-Eye," Bill said somberly. Tears welled up in Hermione's eyes. "He saved dad's life."

New footsteps could be heard running down the hall, and then Tonks came tearing into the infirmary, eyes wild.

"Tonks…" Bill said, standing up and blocking her path.

"No!" she cried. "I heard- Mad-Eye- is it true?" No one said anything, but she could read the truth on their faces. She slumped sobbing against Bill, who held her up awkwardly for several seconds before Lupin came limping into the room, favoring his right leg. He too looked devastated by the sight of the covered body. He put his arms around Tonks and pulled her away from Bill, leading her to an unoccupied bed.

"Shh, Dora," he murmured, holding her close and rocking back and forth gently. He continued to hold her while she cried, and Hermione turned away, feeling as though she were interrupting something very personal and private.

Harry was conversing in low tones with Ron outside a bed with curtains drawn at the far end of the wing. Snape was nowhere in sight, and Hermione suspected he was inside the curtains, speaking with Dumbledore. She walked over and joined them.

"Bloody wicked mate," Ron said. "Scared me for a while though. I think you scared all of us." He looked uncertainly at Hermione. She looked away, beginning to register how reckless she had been by marching out to meet the death eaters alone.

"Yeah," Harry grinned, "bring some back up next time, will you, Hermione? I thought I was going to have to jump the gun a bit early on that one- I suspect Draco did as well."

"Glad you find it amusing," she bit back. "I just- I thought you were dead," she shrugged. "Somehow, everything else just didn't matter so much anymore."

Harry's response was to pull them both into a tight, long hug. They stayed that way, arms wrapped around one another, until Snape's low voice brought them back. "Potter- he wants to speak with you." Harry disappeared through the curtain to speak privately with Dumbledore. Snape sat heavily on a chair near the bed and closed his eyes. "He's in quite good spirits," he informed Hermione and Ron. "He's just rather weak; he is out of immediate danger, but seems to feel that his time will be limited."

"What happened?" Ron asked. "Did Narcissa Malfoy…?"

"No," Snape said sharply, "no. She upheld her end of the bargain. She is not a death eater, however much she may support their ideas. No, Albus has been weakening since he sought the ring on his own, all those months ago. He's hid it well, but today's trials proved too much. There were many protections on the goblet, and he was hard-pressed to get past them to destroy it.

"She quite possibly saved all of our lives in the forest today."

Hermione looked up. "How so?" she asked quietly.

He sighed. "She chose to return, when she was under no obligation. She told the Dark Lord that she'd escaped but been unable to find Draco. He was displeased, so, when the casting of the killing curse on Potter went wrong, he made her feel to see if he still lived. He thought it to be a punishment, but had he chosen someone else… her timing could not have been better, she appeared just as the Dark Lord began to fear he had failed."

"How did it go wrong?" Hermione asked.

"They both passed out, apparently. Just momentarily, and I have yet to find out exactly what happened to Potter- in truth, I thought he _would_ die, but when they both fainted, I did not know what to think. Narcissa managed to inform me before we marched out of the woods that he did, in fact, live. I of course, assured her the same of Draco. But we did not understand their immunity from the cruciatus curse… which, I suspect, is what drove _you_ to believe I truly had betrayed you?" He turned his focus to Hermione, who flushed deeply. "It's alright," he murmured. "I deceived you, and the events were unexpected and disturbing."

"Can you forgive me?" she whispered, and Ron looked confused, sensing he'd been left behind somewhere in the conversation.

Snape almost smiled. "It is I who should be asking forgiveness," he told her. "But if it is what you desire- then yes, for there is nothing to forgive."

She burst out into tears hearing it and Ron and Snape looked quite alarmed. Snape stood quickly and hesitantly reached out a hand to her arm… and then she was hugging him and sobbing into his robes. He pulled her down into the chair and wrapped her in his arms, rubbing her back gently. After a few seconds, he looked up at the bewildered Ron.

"A moment, Weasley?" he asked in his deadly quiet voice.

"Er- right." Ron practically dashed back over to his family.

Ginny looked up. "Alright there, Ron?"

"Erm… Hermione and Snape are hugging, and she's crying all over him…"

"Old news," Fred and George pronounced.

"Yeah," Lupin concurred from where he still held a somewhat calmed Tonks, "catch up on the times, Ron."

He looked from them and back over to where Snape and Hermione still sat, shook his head, and collapsed in an empty bed. "Wake me up next month."

* * *

"My boy," Dumbledore smiled broadly, "you cannot fathom how proud I am."

Harry smiled and then asked uncertainly, "Sir? Are you aware- I mean, was it really you with Grindelwald when I was…well, unconscious?"

"Yes, Harry," his eyes twinkled. "Like you, I was hovering in a state of near-death- the retrieval of the goblet nearly cost me my life. And I must confess, I was so grieved at the thought that I had quite possibly sent you off to your death, that perhaps I was less inclined to fight for life; though my hopes were restored somewhat when I suspected you had won the allegiance of the Elder Wand."

"What happened, sir?"

"Harry," he said, "I'm an old man; my reflexes are not what they once were. I told you several weeks ago that the quest to find the ring in the Gaunt's old shack had taxed my skills- in truth, it very nearly cost my life. Can you not guess why that might be?"

"I don't…" Harry paused, remembering all that he had learnt that night. "The Resurrection Stone. You'd been seeking it."

"In a past life, Harry. But yes, upon seeing it once more, a sort of trance came over me- I touched the ring, though it was heavily cursed, and was hard pressed to repair the damage I had done; and even then, I was never wholly better again."

"And tonight?"

"Tonight, the necessity for hurry, my already weakened and worried state, and the powerful protections placed upon the Black vault as well as on the goblet itself proved too much- I was finally able to reach it, but was too weak to proceed to destroy it. Narcissa did. And I understand that Lucius killed Nagini?"

"Yes, sir. Sir, what will happen to the Malfoys now?"

Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "I'm afraid I do not know. Lucius got away once claiming the Imperius curse; they won't believe it again. And he has been present at many of the death eaters' _activities_, though I am unaware to what extent he participated. His actions tonight might perhaps be enough to forgive his crimes, except…"

"Hermione."

"Indeed. He has injured her grievously- and in truth, probably others. Time will tell, however. Much depends on the view of the aurors and the Wizengamot, when they decide who to try and how. As for Narcissa, I think there is no danger. While her ideas may be outdated, one may not be persecuted for their beliefs; at least not when the Ministry is restored to its better self. Her sister was the more radical one of that family."

"And about the Hallows, sir…"

"Fire away."

"Quite frankly, I don't want the Elder Wand. I'm happy with my old one. And the Resurrection Stone, while it served me well tonight, is a false hope and temptation which I do not wish to carry around."

Dumbledore beamed. "Then you are a better man than I, Harry. At your age…" he sighed wistfully. "It is a mature decision. Have you thought of what to do with them?"

"I-," he hesitated. "I thought to bury them in the cemetery in Godric's Hollow. Not in Ignotus Peverell's grave, that would be too easy if someone else went looking for them- but near my parents' graves, perhaps."

"I think that is a wise choice, Harry," Dumbledore said soberly. "Many people in that graveyard were affected by the Hallows, either directly or indirectly. It would be an honor to their memory, I think."

"But I'd like to keep the cloak," Harry said unsurely.

"Of course! You were meant to have it, Harry. And one day, it will pass to one of your children. And now that Voldemort is defeated, perhaps you can begin to give some thought to starting a family…"

Harry grinned. "It's awfully soon, but I'll think about it, sir." His gaze flickered involuntarily towards the sound of voices coming from the Weasleys' side of the room. One in particular rang out in soft laughter.

* * *

Kingsley Shacklebolt entered the infirmary with Minerva McGonagall. They went briefly to check on Arthur and give condolences for Moody; McGonagall circled the wing and checked in with the other injured- Hannah Abbott still lay there, and Neville Longbottom had rejoined her following Voldemort's death; Seamus too was injured, but he was sitting up and chatting with Ernie MacMillan and Terry Boot. From what Hermione understood, injured aurors were being moved to St. Mungo's instead now that the battle was over, to lessen the workload for Madam Pomfrey and her helpers.

Kingsley approached Snape and Hermione, who sat leaning against him, his arm around her shoulders.

"Sorry- Severus? Can I have a word?"

They exited to the hallway.

"News reached the Ministry that Voldemort was dead," Kingsley began. "Some people recovered from the Imperius curse, others turned themselves in, and there was essentially a coup against anyone who didn't. Scrimgeour, in an effort to appear to have any real control over his aurors, came to the school to help handle the death eaters."

Snape groaned.

"Things have gone relatively smoothly- most have given up with very little fight. But quite frankly, I don't know what to do with Lucius Malfoy."

"Scrimgeour wants him, I presume?" Snape asked.

"He's being arrested today, regardless. But a determination from you- one way or the other- could greatly alter how he is treated until he stands trial."

Snape thought quickly. "Recommend house arrest; to throw him in Azkaban with the rest of them would probably be a threat to his life- he did accomplish the final step to making the Dark Lord mortal again, after all. And I don't think you have to worry about him trying anything; he's had a severe awakening today regarding family matters. I think he'll have enough to work out on that front for a while."

Kingsley nodded and turned to leave, but hesitated. "I almost forgot- he asked me to tell you thank you- for saving his son's life."

Snape blinked once and then nodded. "If you see him again, will you tell him I said thank you as well?- He'll know what for."

* * *

**A/N: Alright- penultimate chapter ;-) Only one more to go… and the best part? I've already started on it! **

**Thanks once more for all of the fantastic reviews- they are quite encouraging and keep me writing! **

**Expect the last chapter soon… keep your eyes peeled. :-) **

**Cheers!**


	37. Chapter 36

**A/N: Well here it is: last chapter. Ah! **

**Thanks so much for all of my faithful readers and reviewers… it has been great knowing that someone out there has enjoyed my writing ;-) **

**Disclaimer: Still not mine. **

**Chapter 36**

"Hermione? There's something you and I should talk about."

She looked up at him, not moving from her position where she was curled against him. They were back at Prince Manor for the night, and would be returning to Hogwarts in the morning to help begin repairing damage to the school, grounds, and wards- along with other members of the Order who were not already helping do clean-up at the Ministry.

"Shacklebolt came to speak to me earlier regarding the treatment of Lucius Malfoy. I recommended they leave him under house arrest until the trial so he would not be at risk from the followers he betrayed."

Her brow furrowed. "Hm…" she murmured.

"He _will_ go to Azkaban," Snape said quietly. "Isolated, for his protection. The question is for how long."

"How long do you think?" she asked in an even voice.

He hesitated. "It depends. I relayed the events of earlier today, truthfully. His defection was forced by vow, and therefore not grounds on which to grant him full clemency. Nonetheless, it cannot be denied that he was greatly helpful to bringing about the Dark Lord's fall. Under that scenario alone, I would expect no more than three years in Azkaban. Possibly less."

"So what are you telling me? That I should go to the Wizengamot and testify against him, put him in for longer?"

He shook his head. "I'm telling you that it is your choice. You have the power to affect his sentence drastically. Also," he took a deep breath, "you're probably the only one who does. Everitt has already decided he will pursue no action regarding his brief imprisonment. Otherwise, Lucius was crafty in his support of the Dark Lord- as he rarely partook directly in the violence, the Wizengamot would have trouble finding greater evidence against him than his own admission to being a death eater during this war and the last."

"Honored."

"It also doesn't help that he's maintained such an influential role over the wizarding bureaucracy- there are likely several members of the Wizengamot who will take note of his generous donations to, say, St. Mungo's." He tilted her face to his. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I don't mean to put so much pressure on you." He pulled her to him and embraced her.

"When is his trial scheduled?" she asked stiffly.

"One week. As a technical defector, he is given a shortened waiting-period, expecting that the trial will be less convoluted, and the sentence minimal. If you do decide to testify, simply owl Madam Bones; she will set up an appointment with you. The choice is entirely yours, however."

Hermione sighed and stood. "I'll need some time to decide what to do," she told him.

"Of course."

* * *

The next day, the teachers, students, and volunteers helping return Hogwarts to its usual state all ate lunch as one large group in the Great Hall. Even Dumbledore was there, though he still looked somewhat unwell and weak. Before the meal began, Harry stood in McGonagall's place to give a small speech.

"Welcome, friends," he smiled broadly. "Before we begin our meal, I'd like to take a few moments to think about those who could not be here with us today.

"Alastor Moody," he said somberly, "affectionately called 'Mad-Eye'; he was a longtime opponent of the Dark Arts and worked tirelessly in his prime as an auror, eventually becoming head of the department. He fought fiercely with the Order of the Phoenix during both wars- and I suspect that, if he'd been forced to choose how the story of his life would end, he would have had no complaints- for he not only died a noble death, fighting the last fight against Voldemort- but he also gave his life for a friend.

"That friend could not be here today either- Arthur Weasley was transferred to St. Mungo's last night, but is doing well and expects a full recovery. His wife remains with him, but all of his children are here- look for the red hair," he grinned, and there was a smattering of laughter.

"Auror Yates was a junior member of the auror department; he graduated from Hogwarts six years ago and passed training with flying colors. He suffered several fatal curses in the attempt to stop death eaters from attacking students in the school."

Auror Caldwell was also a junior member of the department; she was under the especial tutelage of Auror Shacklebolt and specialized in tracking and deception. She died in the second wave of attack yesterday, attempting to hold back the trolls. Her body was recovered by her longtime friend and partner, Auror Hinton." Harry paused and closed his eyes.

"These three brave warriors exemplified strength and courage against a dark and powerful enemy. They gave their lives for the idea that there was a stronger force of good in this world- and yesterday, we honored their sacrifice by proving the truth of that ideal.

"Many- too many- others of our number were injured. Some have recovered quite nicely and managed to return today- my own classmates Hannah Abbott and Seamus Finnigan among them," he smiled at them. "But let us take a few moments to remember those who cannot be here- the brave sacrifices of Aurors Moody, Yates, and Caldwell- as well as the injuries suffered fighting for a noble cause."

Everyone sat, heads bowed in respect for several seconds.

"Lastly," Harry said, "I'd like to extend a particular thank you to two people who helped us enjoy the success we did have yesterday; without them and their hard work, many more of our number would likely have died. Severus Snape and Hermione Granger spent months developing and brewing the potion- so dubbed 'Grape' by Professor Dumbledore, though I suspect Professor Snape will soon be lobbying for a change in name-," more laughter. "This potion rendered our side immune to the killing curse, and likely saved countless lives."

Hermione blushed, and Snape's expression was unreadable. There was a loud and excited round of applause for the two of them and when it subsided, Harry continued.

"The students of Hogwarts have been sent home for the remainder of the week- of course, those who chose to stay yesterday who wished to remain have done so, to help with this new task. Plans are already in the works- with the help of Professor Clark Everitt- to bring the muggle-born students back from the Salem Academy so they may continue their education at Hogwarts if they so wish. As for myself- well, I'd like to complete my final year of school, though I don't know when I'll find the time to make up the homework I've missed in the last two months." There was more laughter, especially from the students who remained. "Knowing Hermione, though, she's been keeping up with hers from a distance- so maybe I can just copy." She grinned at him and shook her head good-naturedly.

"I suspect you're tired of listening to me ramble," he concluded. "So once more, thanks to everyone for all you've done, especially yesterday and today. It's been an honor.

"Let's eat."

* * *

"Hey, Hermione."

She turned to see who it was- and broke out into a broad smile. "Hi, Draco. I didn't realize you were here."

"Showed up late, but I caught most of Potter's spiel. How are you?"

She hugged him, and for the first time in months, he returned it comfortably. "Couldn't be better. I feel like I'm truly able to breathe for the first time in ages. How are you?"

He shrugged. "Things are a little- off- at home." Hermione felt suddenly insensitive- she'd forgotten that his father was facing at least a couple of years in Azkaban. "My mother is in a bit of shock still that father killed her sister… but I think she'll be okay."

"And," she spoke hesitantly, "how are things with your father?"

He shrugged, a bit bitterly, Hermione thought. "He's resigned himself to the repercussions of his actions, though I think it has mother more on edge than him. He'll be lucky to get off with just a couple of years in Azkaban; though without the dementors, it isn't nearly so bad. Probably better than he deserves to be honest."

Hermione thought long and hard about that conversation for the rest of the day.

* * *

She stood, staring at the letter, unsure whether or not she truly wanted to send it.

_Madam Bones,_

_I would like to make an appointment to discuss the trial of Lucius Malfoy, which is to take place in three days' time, and, if necessary, arrange to testify at said trial. _

_Please let me know when I may come in to discuss this matter. _

_Respectfully yours,_

_Hermione Granger_

With a sigh, she returned it to the envelope and carefully checked the address. She then tied it to the leg of one of the school owls and watched him fly away, full of trepidation.

When she received a response the next day, she told Snape that she'd be going in to speak with chief members of the Wizengamot the day following.

"Do you want me to go with you?" he asked concernedly.

She seriously considered it- but only briefly. "No," she smiled lightly. "This is something I have to do on my own."

* * *

When she left the Ministry the next day, she did not return directly to Prince Manor. Instead, she apparated to Hogsmeade and took the long and curving path up to the gates of Hogwarts. The grounds were empty- the students were due to begin returning the following day. She thought about entering the castle, but veered across to the lake. She stood, staring at the smooth water, interrupted occasionally by ripples of the various creatures living below the surface; she remembered falling in last year, and Draco pulling her out.

Despite the chilliness of the November weather, she sat down by the water and remained there for some time. She wasn't aware of how much time had passed when she heard quiet footsteps approaching.

"Didn't expect to see you here again so soon." It was Everitt.

"I needed some space," she smiled. "I've spent so much time in the same two places in the last six months, it's difficult to fathom the freedom I have once again. And Hogwarts- well, it's home," she said. "My parents haven't returned yet, but even so- in the past year and a half, I've hardly been to their house." She sighed. "Everything is just so jumbled right now."

He sat down beside her. "Is everything alright?"

"Oh, yes," she murmured. "I'm just wondering if I did the right thing today- that's all."

He looked pensive. "Right and wrong are usually not so simple, so black and white as we might like," he suggested helpfully. She sighed. That was the truth.

"You know," Everitt said, "sometime I'd like to hear your story, Hermione. If you'd be willing to tell it, of course."

"Sometime," she agreed. "Once I work out everything that has arisen since Voldemort's death." She smiled. "I'd enjoy the opportunity to really talk again."

* * *

Lucius Malfoy entered the court room of the Wizengamot, his auror guard in tow. Aurors Knightley, Bey, and Vroman had rotating duty during the week of his house arrest. They were unobtrusive, but Malfoy was tired of their presence; just a reminder of what awaited. This morning, it was Bey's shift- she was young but serious and efficient, and probably Malfoy's preferred of the three.

He had once before entered this room under similar circumstances- he'd left a free man that day. True, he'd lied about the willingness of his support for the Dark Lord, but the Wizengamot was unable to find any solid proof to the contrary. Even if he was tempted, he knew such a ploy would not work a second time.

He knew Narcissa would be observing from the gallery, but he had encouraged Draco not to attend. It hardly seemed the type of atmosphere for the teenager who had very clearly on his own opted for a path free of the Dark Lord; he did not really need to listen to the Wizengamot drudge up the crimes of the death eaters they ran through the court. He'd been trying to deal with his own family's support for long enough. And besides- it was the first day students were returning to Hogwarts, and classes resumed soon.

"Lucius Malfoy," Amelia Bones looked up at him fleetingly before returning to her perusal of some parchments in front of her. "No, do not sit," she corrected as he moved to take the chair of the accused, "come stand before the bench. This won't take long."

She took a deep breath and then regarded him severely from the high podium. "Mr. Malfoy, you have been excused for your crimes. Previously given testimony has revealed that yes, you were a loyal follower of Voldemort; however, subsequent evidence was presented which, upon great deliberation, was sufficient to clear the charges against your name.

"However," her voice became very firm and strict, "the Wizengamot does not take this decision lightly. You hardly have a clean record on matters unrelated to the war- the blackmailing of Hogwarts school governors not least- and we will be very interested in any further discrepancies in character. You will, therefore, be subject to a three-year, no-tolerance probationary period; even beyond that, however, I should warn you that it will not take much for the Wizengamot to change its mind and reverse its decision. We will be watching you very closely. Do I make myself clear?"

Malfoy was barely able to formulate words around his shock. "Yes, Madam," he managed. "Thank you."

"Very well. You may go. Auror Bey, you may resume your normal functions in the department."

As he turned to exit the courtroom, he caught sight of Narcissa's smiling face up in the gallery. He signaled that he would meet her outside the courtroom and continued walking- and then stopped again, looking quickly at the door in the back of the gallery from which he'd caught a flash of movement. A cloaked and hooded figure was hurrying out the door- but several long, brown curls fell outside the hood.

* * *

"Lucius," she smiled softly as she embraced him. "I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but I'm quite surprised."

A voice rang out from behind her. "I think we all are, Narcissa." Snape approached them quickly, robes billowing and eyes flashing. "I must say, Lucius, I didn't think you'd be able to pull it off, not this time."

"Severus--"

"So who was it this time?" Snape continued roughly. "Who did you pay off, bribe, coerce into convincing the Wizengamot to let you off scot-free?"

"Severus, I've been under house arrest," Malfoy snapped. "I've been allowed no visitors, not been able to leave my own house, and my post is checked, incoming and outgoing. Who exactly do you propose I've bribed, and when do you propose I've done so?" He paused. "Besides," he added quietly, "don't you think Amelia Bones an able enough witch to see through such a ploy?"

Snape looked at him closely, trying to judge his level of sincerity. Finally, with a snort of disgust, he turned and headed back towards the gallery.

"Severus," Malfoy called after him. He stopped, but did not turn. "I'm as surprised as anyone, I can promise you that. If someone did come to speak to the Wizengamot on my behalf, it was done without my knowledge. It also must have been someone well placed in your 'Phoenix' organization…"

Snape turned, stalked towards Malfoy, and shoved him against the nearest wall, leaning in close to speak in his ear so that Narcissa could not hear.

"The only such person who expressed any desire to speak to the council regarding your case was Hermione Granger; you tell me Lucius- what incentive would _she_ of all people have to see you walk free today?" Malfoy paled slightly. "I personally don't much fancy telling her what happened here." Malfoy shot him a quick quizzical look, but Snape had already turned once more. "I have to sit in on one last case- they're determining whether or not Aldous Levinson had any complicity in the murder of Minister Yestin. I bid you both a good day," he inclined his head towards Narcissa. "Do enjoy your freedom, Lucius," he sneered.

Narcissa watched him go, wide-eyed. "What was that all about?" she asked when he'd disappeared back into the court.

"Just Severus trying to protect his interests," he hooked her arm in his and began to walk towards the lifts. "Come- let's go home."

* * *

She stared at the eagle owl which bore itself in a similarly self-important and haughty demeanor as its owner. The open letter had been sitting on the table for ten minutes, untouched, while she tried to decide if it merited a response.

_Miss Granger,_

_I saw you sneak out of the court chamber today; as Severus was unaware of your presence, I must suspect that you purposely remained discreet- perhaps because your testimony to the council was not what he expected?_

_I can think of no one else who could have driven the court to the decision they reached- let me, therefore, extend my gratitude, not least for allowing me a small measure of redemption to my family, rather than the possible horror which could have resulted from today's proceedings. _

_I am well aware further pleasantries would be ignored and disdained; nor will I attempt to apologize for my actions, for I am sure such appeals would fall on deaf ears. Suffice it to say, your verbal and physical assault on me during the battle woke an abhorrence of myself I did not think possible. _

_Merlin alone may know why you came to my defense when by all rights you could and should have condemned me- know, however, that I am grateful. _

_L. Malfoy_

She re-read it for what must have been the twentieth time. It was well-written, she could not deny that. She doubted, however, its sincerity, but could not fathom why he would send it otherwise. In all likelihood, she supposed, it was curiosity that drove him to send it- clearly he was baffled, he must have sent the letter almost immediately upon returning home. Perhaps he hoped to better understand her motives by eliciting a reply. Well, she didn't particularly feel the need to explain herself to him, so that was too bad.

She heard movement from the drawing room and quickly folded up the letter and replaced it in the envelope, tucking both away in her robes. Moments later, Snape walked into the dining room looking grim. He approached the table wearily, removing his cloak as he walked.

"Is everything alright?" Hermione asked hesitantly.

He sighed heavily. "The Wizengamot has exercised its complete inability to perform its duties in the designated fashion," he grumbled as he hung his cloak. Turning back to the table, he continued. "I don't know how it happened but they…" he paused, noticing the owl, "…let Malfoy off… Levinson's been cleared of involvement in Yestin's death… has there been post?" he looked confused.

"I-" she blushed, realizing her stupidity, "yes. For me. Since you removed the Fidelius charm, owls are actually able to find me again…"

"That owl belongs to the Malfoys," he said quietly, almost accusingly. "You say it was for you?"

She raised an eyebrow. "It's hardly as though Draco and I must maintain our distance anymore," she retorted.

"True; but that is not Draco's owl. And since he is already at school, I am forced to infer that you received something from either Lucius or Narcissa," he said evenly. "What was it? I would not recommend attempting to lie to me again."

She stared at him blankly, surprised by the veiled threat. When several seconds went by without a response, he became angry.

"Damn it, Hermione!" she jumped. "What are _you_ trying to hide? If he's done something- threatened you in some way…"

"Here!" she snapped, throwing the letter down on the table. "I have to go pack," she muttered, stalking out of the room. Snape watched her go, waited until her footsteps disappeared up the stairs, before turning his attention to the letter on the table. It was addressed very neatly to _Miss Hermione Granger_- and it was, in fact, in Lucius's handwriting. He angrily ripped the single piece of parchment from the envelope- and could not have been more shocked at what he read. And yet, it fit- Malfoy's obvious confusion at his own fortune had forced Snape to reconsider his accusations. But why…?

He walked slowly and pensively up the stairs and knocked gently on the door to Hermione's room, letter still in hand. He heard her cease movement, and then pause for several seconds, perhaps considering whether or not to let him in, when she called monotonously, "Come in."

She was shuffling about the room, pulling things from drawers and out of the closet, stuffing them unceremoniously into her trunk. He was tempted to accomplish the whole task with a wave of his wand, but suspected she was merely venting frustration- at him.

"Is he correct in his assumption?" he asked quietly. "What did you tell Madam Bones yesterday?" Silence. "Hermione?"

She took a deep breath. "I _did_ plan to tell you tonight," she said. "But I had to see it through first- I didn't want you or anyone else trying to change my mind."

"I do admit, I am rather confused," he told her lightly. "Why you would lie on his behalf…"

"I didn't lie!" she said adamantly. "Everything I told her was true; I just restricted my story to that which happened during the battle, nothing before."

"What happened during the battle," he laughed mirthlessly, "was that Lucius was under a vow to protect your life, with his if need be- failure to do so would have killed him, and he knew it! His actions were still out of self-interest. I thought the Wizengamot had been made well-aware of that fact."

She shook her head. "You weren't there," she reminded him gently. "Don't you see? We- myself and Malfoy- thought _you_ had betrayed _us_. When Voldemort cast the Cruciatus curse on Harry and Draco, we truly believed them to be dead." Realization was beginning to creep onto Snape's face. "He tried to stop me from leaving the castle, and I scorned him; I told him that the vow was forfeit, since you failed to uphold your promise of Draco's safety, or your own life. He believed me, and that's why he let me go when I forbade him to follow.

"He did not believe himself to be under any obligation anymore to the Unbreakable Vow when he saved my life, Severus; it was purely his choice to do so. Not to mention the fact that he could have stunned Bellatrix Lestrange, or done any number of other things- but he chose to kill her, reveal his defection to everyone, in order to protect me.

"It is true that, by the time he killed Nagini, he knew Draco had survived- but it is my belief that he would have killed the snake regardless. And _that_ is what I told Madam Bones yesterday."

Snape spoke quietly. "It's still far better than he deserves."

She sighed. "I know; and in truth, I did it more for Draco than for Lucius. We were talking last week, and I really realized how much faith he had lost in his own father- I think it would have hurt him irreparably to learn the full truth of Lucius's misdoings. No, I believe that there is some chance at redemption and living a good life with the family he obviously loves… even if the rest of his priorities could use a severe renewal- it seemed a waste to destroy that by sending him to Azkaban for Merlin knows how long.

"Personally," she murmured, "I'm not willing to forgive my own grievances against him for a belated act of redemption and self-realization. But as long as he behaves himself from here on out, I am willing to keep my mouth shut. If I do learn he has betrayed the trust of the court, however- well, let's just say that I won't wait for courtly justice to be done."

He nodded. "While I may not necessarily agree that he should be let off completely- I think I understand your points. Though I suspect you may need to explain that to Potter later, he was fairly shocked today." He narrowed his eyes shrewdly. "Speaking of which- where _were_ you?"

She grinned. "I crept in quietly right before Malfoy's session, and left right after. I was in the back, near the door- I had my hood up on my cloak the entire time." She looked at him serenely. "Let's not worry about this anymore," she asked. "What's done is done, and they're my choices to live with."

"Okay, Hermione," he acquiesced, eyes glittering darkly as he watched her begin to pack once more. "Would you like some help with that?" he asked.

"Sure."

He flicked his wand once, and she stood back in surprise as all of her possessions which were going to Hogwarts flew neatly into her trunk.

"Some witch you make," he smirked. She sauntered over to the bed where he was sitting, grabbed a pillow, and smacked him in the face with it.

"I'm a fantastic witch," she smiled slyly. He grabbed the pillow and threw it back to the head of the bed before grabbing her and pulling her down to the bed with him.

"Agreed," he murmured, kissing her neck and all around her face before at last seizing her lips in a bruising kiss.

"Mm," she sighed as his hands caressed her body and face, "I've missed this."

"Blame…the Dark Lord," he grumbled between kisses, hands at the clasps of her robes, "for keeping… us all… too distracted…"

In retrospect, as Hermione lay curled in Snape's arms sometime later, she realized that the ongoing quest against Voldemort had, indeed, deprived them of a lot of time they might have otherwise spent together. But, she supposed with a smile, he was dead- and the wait had been well worth it.

* * *

_Malfoy,_

_You are correct; I did speak on your behalf to Mme. Bones. _

_Do not take this as a sign that I in any way like, respect, or forgive you. _

_H. Granger_

* * *

_Granger,_

_Why?_

_L.A.M._

* * *

_Malfoy,_

_My respect and admiration for your son (and increasingly for your wife) is infinitely greater than for you._

_I believed your defection to be sincere- it therefore did not seem worth Draco's devastation to learn the full truth, rather than giving you a chance to rebuild some semblance of familial trust. _

_If I hear you have betrayed this undeserved opportunity, do not think I'll hesitate for even a moment to do what, by rights, I should have done in that court room._

_I will regard this as the end of our correspondence- do not write me again._

_Granger_

* * *

Lucius Malfoy stood staring at the letter in his hands for some time- and wondered, not for the first time, what exactly was the relationship between his son and Hermione Granger, as well as between the girl and Severus; not to mention what precisely had occurred when she was a prisoner of the Dark Lord's in the spring. He sighed. Those would be questions for Draco for another time.

He sent the owl back on its way, having been assured in no uncertain terms that a response of any sort was unwarranted… not that he'd have anything further to say to the girl anyway.

He was still in a mild state of disbelief over the events of the preceding week or so; the Dark Lord was most assuredly dead, and Lucius himself had even completed the final step to completing his mortality- or so he understood belatedly. He'd also outright killed Bella to save the Granger girl, and when he asked himself, even now, he still could not provide a satisfactory answer to why he'd done so, especially considering he could have incapacitated her in any other number of ways.

Maybe it was anger that Bella had clearly made no effort on his son's behalf, when Severus had given him to the Dark Lord.

Maybe it was the fact that she was a raving fanatic with an unhealthy obsession for a deranged psychopath.

Maybe it was as simple as he'd come to value Hermione Granger's life more than his wife's sister's. Something in the way she had berated him and his shock that students would be fighting…

In any case, his actions had served him well- much better than expected really, considering Granger could have had him put away for decades… and instead, chose to give him the chance to start afresh in life. He felt slightly beholden to her, and that was definitely a feeling which made him uneasy; but, as she wanted nothing to do with him, he really was under no obligation to express any sort of gratitude beyond what he'd already done.

"Is everything alright, dear?"

He glanced up at his wife, carefully folding the letter and placing it in his pocket. "Of course," he murmured. "Just wrapping up a correspondence regarding… well, my trial, or lack thereof."

"Lucius," she smiled, "let it go. If someone wants to help you out, it hardly seems the time to complain about anonymity."

He sighed. "Right you are, love." He hadn't told her about Hermione Granger- it was too long, too complicated, and too shameful a story, once one told it in full.

He supposed he did feel a twinge of guilt for what he'd done to the girl. Whether that was because he'd since learned she and Draco were friends, or because she had chosen to remain silent for his benefit- well, he couldn't be entirely sure. The truth of the matter was that he did not feel any particularly strong ideological changes- he would, however, take her warning seriously, as well as that of the Wizengamot.

His recent dealings with Granger had given him no reason to doubt the sincerity of her threat.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall sat behind her desk and surveyed the three students sitting before her. She'd watched Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and Hermione Granger grow from mismatched eleven-year-olds to self-confident and accomplished of-age wizards and best friends.

Classes were due to start the following morning, and the three had recently transferred their belongings to their long-missed dormitories- and then promptly departed again, not wanting the awe and attention which would undoubtedly follow their return. Now they sat down to discuss how exactly they were to begin their last year at Hogwarts, considering they had missed the first two months.

"Here's the thing," she sighed, "and I'm sorry- I would have told you earlier, but we only just got the matter resolved a couple of hours ago, after you'd already moved. But Kingsley would really like the help of the three of you at the Ministry right now- if you'd be willing, of course."

Harry frowned. "Has he resigned the Defense post them?" he asked.

"Ah. Well, he did not plan to, but a solution presented itself which I believe works out best for everyone; Severus has offered to take the position for at least the remainder of this year." Hermione sat up straighter, surprised. "That frees Kingsley up to return to the Ministry, where popular support is crying for him to supplant Scrimgeour as head of the auror department."

"What exactly does he want help with?" Ron asked.

She shrugged. "Rounding up any remaining death eaters, routing out sympathizers within the Ministry itself, that sort of thing. They're scattered and leaderless right now, but fast action is essential to ensuring no one else sets themselves up in a position of power again. And right now, having people he can trust is essential to his plan of action."

"What about completing school?" Hermione asked, and Ron and Harry chuckled at her worried tone.

"You would have a couple of options," McGonagall told her seriously. "You can, of course, choose to remain- though from what I understand, you, Severus, and I would need to have a long discussion, if that were the case. You can return at a later time, when the Ministry is restored. You could request special permission to take your N.E.W.T.s now, or wait until the end of term- I have little doubt that you'd pass them all as it is. Also, you could divide your time; obviously, you need no further Defense or Potions education- but if you felt you would like to take on a part time schedule, we could accommodate that, and you could aid the Ministry on your free days."

Hermione bit her lip worriedly, but Ron and Harry seemed more than eager to continue championing the forces of good.

In the end, she decided to take her N.E.W.T.s in June with the rest of the seventh years- in the meantime, she divided her time between work at the Ministry, doing some at-home studying of the seventh years' material, and helping resettle her parents. And of course, on free weekends, she would return to Hogwarts to visit Snape, and sometimes talk with Everitt- the two of whom, she was surprised to discover, were now getting along quite well. She also did her best to check in with Ginny and Draco, who seemed to be enjoying his home life a lot more than he had the prior year. Which, of course, reassured her that perhaps she had done the best thing after all.

Dumbledore died the following summer, quite contentedly at home with Harry, McGonagall, and Snape at his side. He'd been declining physically for some time- ever since the incident in Gringotts, he had his up and down days, but was never truly recovered.

"'Death is but the next great adventure'," Harry said quietly, teary-eyed, but calm and accepting. "Professor Dumbledore said this to me during my first year here at Hogwarts- and it took me most of the past six years to truly understand his meaning."

A vast crowd of people and other magical creatures were gathered near the great tomb, around the edges of the forest, or on the banks of the lake.

"In the few minutes I have, it is difficult to attempt to sum up so extraordinary a life; even in the comparatively short time I knew him, Professor Dumbledore proved himself an exceptional wizard, a keen intellectual- and a compassionate, caring man. He was eager to help others and could always find the good in someone, no matter how far he or she may have strayed- he was also willing to overlook more than a few personal violations of school rules, so he will forever be in my gratitude for not expelling me when I smuggled an illegal dragon out of the school, or snuck into Hogsmeade without a parental permission form." He grinned as many people chuckled through their tears.

"In his life, he performed many great services to the wizarding world; for decades, he work tirelessly for the education of young witches and wizards, always believing in a school based upon acceptance and safety- be you half-giant, or werewolf- or muggle-born. He saw the uprising of two infamous dark wizards, and in the end, would work to bring about the defeat of both.

"Albus Dumbledore was a humble man- he once expressed his greatest honor in life was to be featured on chocolate frog cards. While I acknowledge a certain teasing nature of this comment, it was through this means, nevertheless, that I was first introduced to him. On my first train ride to Hogwarts, my only exposure to the wizarding world was while school shopping. I had the honor of meeting a great friend on that trip, and the beginning of a lifetime mutual loyalty was forged over the sharing of dozens of sweets from the trolley- and my first chocolate frog card carried the face of Albus Dumbledore.

"Never could I imagine what a man he would be, despite the description of his glorious feats in life; never could I imagine that this man would become, not only the astounding mentor- but also the compassionate friend- that he eventually would be to me.

"I thought long and hard about what sort of token I could place in this tomb, something which would be meaningful, yet simple, as he would have liked. And as I thought about this eulogy I was to give, I stumbled across my answer," here, Harry drew something out of his pocket. "All these years later, I have saved my very first chocolate frog card, bearing the portrait of Albus Dumbledore- with him it shall remain." He placed the card gently in the still-open tomb. "Good-bye, Professor Dumbledore," he said quietly. "You will be missed, but I am confident that you are, indeed, enjoying that next great adventure."

A long, mournful note rang out, and the attendees all looked up, blinking fiercely against the bright sunlight of the July morning. Fawkes the phoenix was singing the most beautiful, but the saddest cry Hermione had ever heard.

As they joined the procession of people filing by the tomb for one last look at the great wizard, Snape reflected on his last moments with the man who had given him a second chance, when no one else would have.

"_Is everything alright?" McGonagall asked. _

"_Ah," Dumbledore responded quietly, "you're wondering why I've called you three in particular. Well, as surely as all things must end, I sense my time is drawing to a close." _

_Harry gasped quietly, but Dumbledore heard anyway. "Harry, my boy," he whispered, reaching out an old, wrinkled hand to touch his cheek, "you of all people should realize that this is not the end, but the beginning of something new and exciting."He turned his attention back to McGonagall. "Minerva- you've been a remarkable student, colleague, and friend in the vast time in which we've known one another. I wonder if there's one more request I might ask of you?" _

"_Anything," she murmured, clearly distraught. _

"_If at all possible- if it is allowable per the governors- I would very much like to be buried at Hogwarts. It's been my true home for more than a century now." _

"_Of course," she sniffed, trying not to cry. _

"_Come now," he smiled. "You're a marvelous headmistress, Minerva, I always knew you would be. Continue to perform admirably, and remember the importance of the children- so much is determined in the young years." He sighed. "Severus?" _

"_Albus," he acknowledged quietly, grieved himself, though he had known for some time that his time was short. _

"_Your young years were difficult, and you very nearly lost your way- you possess an extraordinary capacity for love, however much you may try to hide it, and this is what saved you. Never forget that. Especially for Hermione's sake, don't forget it." _

"_Yes, Albus," he murmured. _

"_Harry," Dumbledore smiled once more. "Harry, continue to use your heart and your head, and you will continue to do great things. It is tragic that one so good at heart was forced to do and see what you did- but that moral strength of character is what allowed you to be the chosen one, allowed you to save those you love."_

_Dumbledore closed his eyes serenely. "I once sought a means to undo death, and bring back those I had lost- I now acknowledge my naïveté, and go to join them where we may all be equals in the adventure." _

_He spoke no more after that, and soon fell into a deep unconsciousness. Harry and McGonagall each took one of his hands, while Snape monitored his condition. He seemed to be in no pain or discomfort, and it was hardly noticeable when his body finally did succumb and cease to function. _

Snape replayed this scene in his mind later that night as he finally left Hogwarts, where many of the teachers had remained for some hours, along with some of Dumbledore's closest friends outside of the school.

He headed wearily up the stairs of Prince Manor, and turned to head towards his room- and stopped. He changed directions and found himself, instead, outside Hermione's door. He entered quietly; the light was off, and she seemed to be asleep- she'd left Hogwarts some time ago, claiming exhaustion.

Settling gently down on the bed, he pulled her sleeping form into his arms. She stirred, adjusting to the new position, but did not fully wake.

"Hermione?" he murmured close by her ear.

"Mmm?" she muttered.

"I love you."

"I know," she yawned and settled more cozily against his body. "And you know that I love you too…" her voice grew quieter as she spoke, and soon enough, she was breathing deeply again, mouth slightly open, hair askew.

He kissed her forehead once before laying down fully himself.

"_You possess an extraordinary capacity for love, however much you may try to hide it, and this is what saved you. Never forget that. Especially for Hermione's sake, don't forget it."_

For her sake, he wouldn't.

* * *

**A/N: Ah. I'm practically in tears, and I'm not sure if it's because Dumbledore is dead, or because I just finished this story. **

**So, first things first- I suspect some of you despise me for letting Lucius off- but let's face it, JK Rowling let him off, and all he did was go running through Hogwarts looking for Draco. At least in MY story, he saved Hermione and killed Nagini… **

**Secondly, I'd love to hear feedback and comments- this is my longest story yet (same number of chapters, but at least 20,000 words longer than Changes in Heart)- and I'm curious about what ups and downs you thought it had (both content and style, of course). **

**Lastly, I want your thoughts on the following: someone asked me if I were planning another sequel to make it a nice, round, 3-part series; the current answer is no- no such plans are in the works- maybe one day… but I wouldn't expect anything. **

**However: I am very strongly considering a separate 'story' which basically contains filler chapters from this and Changes in Heart- the reason a separate story is because a) it would give me more rating flexibility, since I wanted to keep this story below an M and b) I could include chapters of characters who are secondary or not necessarily relevant to main-plot. For instance- elaboration of Harry's discussion with Grindelwald & Dumbledore; elaboration of Hermione/Everitt's imprisonment at Malfoy manor or a scene in which Lucius asks Draco about Hermione & Snape; from Changes in Heart, an explanation of the death eater meeting in which Voldemort first saw Hermione in Snape's mind… **

**That sort of thing. Does that sound remotely interesting? I just have a certain desire to explain certain scenes more, but either couldn't fit them in this story, or did not find the full scene to really be doable or crucial to the central story- that, or scenes were shortened for intrigue purposes (such as Harry's 'death' & subsequent discussion). If it does sound interesting, are there any particular scenes you'd like to see more explicitly? **

**Thanks so much to all of my faithful readers who have stuck with me since Changes in Heart began. Further thanks to those who stumbled new on this story back in April and have held out these long months- look on the bright side though- this took 8 ½ months, and most of it was written in the last 4 ½ … Changes in Heart took what? 3 years and change? **

**I daresay I'm improving. :-D **

**And of course, thanks to everyone else who has caught this story somewhere along the way, or those who have been waiting until it was complete to touch it- again, I'd love to know your thoughts. :-) **

**Cheers, best of luck, and much love,**

***~Lexi Lupin~***


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